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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


Chap.__4:L Copyright No._ 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 


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THE COMPLETE WRITINGS OF 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

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WITH PORTRAITS, ILLUSTRATIONS, AND FACSIMILES 

IN TWENTY-TWO VOLUMES 


VOLUME XIII 





THIS EDITION OF THE 
WRITINGS OF 
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 
IS LIMITED 
TO FIVE HUNDRED 
SIGNED AND NUMBERED 
COPIES 

OF WHICH THIS IS 
y NO. X 

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A thousand miles a day 





































































































THE WEIOTOS OF 



HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 


























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A WONDER BOOK FOR 
GIRLS AND BOYS 

AND 

TANGLEWOOD TALES 


NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 



BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
C&e Rtbettftoe JJtegci, Cambrige 


MDCCCC 


91437 


Libr-eiry of Congreae 

Two Copies Received 

DEC 20 1900 

<7n Copyright entry 
cV*. e . ' «?, ® 

H> a ^ c nps.. 

SECOND COPY 

Delivered to 

ORDER DIVISION 

DEC 24 I9QQ 


fS i 'i r ° 

/ 00 
\fo\.n 

/ 


COPYRIGHT, I9OO, BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 


\ 


LC Control Number 


2003 536507 







































TABLE OF CONTENTS 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTORY NOTE ..... ix 
AUTHOR’S PREFACE ..... xiii 

THE GORGON’S HEAD. 

TANGLEWOOD PORCH. - INTRODUCTORY TO 


u the gorgon’s head ” . . . i 

THE GORGON’S HEAD .... 8 

TANGLEWOOD PORCH.-AFTER THE STORY . 45 

THE GOLDEN TOUCH. 

SHADOW BROOK. -INTRODUCTORY TO “ THE 

GOLDEN TOUCH ” . . . . .48 

THE GOLDEN TOUCH .... 52 


SHADOW BROOK.-AFTER THE STORY . . 78 

THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN. 

TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM. - INTRODUCTORY 

TO “ THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN ” . . 82 

THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN ... 87 

TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM. - AFTER THE 

STORY . . . . . . .112 

THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES. 

TANGLEWOOD FIRESIDE.-INTRODUCTORY TO 

“ THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES” . .114 

THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES . . . 121 

TANGLEWOOD FIRESIDE.-AFTER THE STORY 151 


TABLE OF CONTENTS 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER. 

THE HILL-SIDE.-INTRODUCTORY TO “ THE 

MIRACULOUS PITCHER ” . 

THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 

THE HILL-SIDE.-AFTER THE STORY . 

THE CHIMERA. 

BALD-SUMMIT. -INTRODUCTORY TO “ THE 

CHIMERA ” . 

THE CHIMERA ..... 

BALD-SUMMIT.-AFTER THE STORY 

TANGLEWOOD TALES. 

THE WAYSIDE.-INTRODUCTORY . 

THE MINOTAUR ..... 

THE PYGMIES ...... 

THE DRAGON’S TEETH .... 

circe’s PALACE ...... 

THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 
THE GOLDEN FLEECE . 


155 

159 

188 


190 

194 

228 

2 35 
246 
290 
321 
366 
411 
460 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

A THOUSAND MILES A DAY (page 21 5 ) 

Howard Pyle 

Frontispiece 

Vignette on Engraved Title-page 

Howard Pyle 

“ Behold it, then ! ” cried Perseus 

Howard Pyle 42 

Theseus caught the monster off his guard 

Howard Pyle 284 

“ Who are you ? ” thundered the giant 

Howard Pyle 304 

“ Let me hasten onward” . Howard Pyle 512 




INTRODUCTORY NOTE 


When Hawthorne was in Lenox with his little 
family, in 1850, 18 51, he wrote The House of the 
Seven Gables; and besides seeing to the issue of 
a new edition of Twice-Told Tales , he collected 
the additional volume of The Snow-Image , and 
Other Twice-Told Tales . Then, the summer of 
1851 coming, he wrote with speed the volume 
of renderings of Greek myths to which he gave 
the name of A Wonder Book for Girls and Boys. 
He was in the flush of his first great success. 
The Scarlet Letter had won him fame, and 
given him the assurance of a livelihood from 
his writings. He was in the position to com¬ 
mand fresh attention for his earlier tales, and 
he had written a new romance, which for all its 
thread of tragedy was essentially a sunny book. 

It was in keeping with all this, and with the 
delightful country life which he was leading 
with his wife and children, that he should com¬ 
pose this volume in which the old wine of 
Greece was decanted into new home-made bot¬ 
tles. His son Julian, recalling those days in 
connection with the Wonder Book, writes: “ There 
was the long declivity towards Tanglewood and 
the lake; and in winter, Hawthorne and the 
ix 


A WONDER BOOK 


children used to seat themselves one behind 
another upon the big sled and go down in 
headlong career through the snowdrifts, — as is 
related in the Wonder Book of Eustace Bright 
and his little people. Even the incident of the 
collision with the stump, hidden beneath the 
snow, actually happened precisely as set down 
in the book, as well as many other humorous 
and delightful episodes/’ 

Hawthorne may have had the book in his 
mind longer, but he was very prompt in execut¬ 
ing the work, when he set about it. He wrote 
to Mr. Fields, May 23, 1851 : “I mean to 
write, within six weeks or two months next en¬ 
suing, a book of stories made up of classical 
myths. The subjects are : The Story of Midas, 
with his Golden Touch, Pandora’s Box, The 
Adventure of Hercules in quest of the Golden 
Apples, Bellerophon and the Chimaera, Baucis 
and Philemon, Perseus and Medusa; these, I 
think, will be enough to make up a volume. 
As a framework, I shall have a young college 
student telling these stories to his cousins and 
brothers and sisters, during his vacations, some¬ 
times at the fireside, sometimes in the woods 
and dells. Unless. I greatly mistake, these old 
fictions will work up admirably for the purpose ; 
and I shall aim at substituting a tone in some 
degree Gothic or romantic, or any such tone as 
may best please myself, instead of the classic 


INTRODUCTORY NOTE 

coldness which is as repellent as the touch of 
marble.” 

“ Before the book was in the printers’ hands,” 
his son tells us, “ the children could repeat the 
greater part of it by heart, from hearing it read 
so often.” The book was written within seven 
weeks. “ Since the first of June,” Hawthorne 
writes to his friend Bridge, July 22, 1851, “ I 
have written a book of two or three hundred 
pages for children; and I think it stands a 
chance of a wide circulation.” Something of 
the pleasure that Hawthorne took in his work 
may be read in the sly passage in the closing 
chapter, where Primrose asks : “ Have we not 
an author for our next neighbor ? ” and answers 
the question by adding, “ That silent man, who 
lives in the old red house near Tanglewood 
Avenue, and whom we sometimes meet, with 
two children at his side, in the woods or at the 
lake. I think I have heard of his having writ¬ 
ten a poem, or a romance, or an arithmetic, or 
a school history, or something of that kind.” 

Mr. Lathrop describes thus the manuscript 
of the JVonder Book , the only one of Haw¬ 
thorne’s which in its completed form was owned 
by any member of his family: “ The book was 
written on thin blue paper of rather large size, 
and on both sides of the pages. Scarcely a cor¬ 
rection or an erasure occurs, from the beginning 
to the end ; and wherever an alteration was 
xi 


A WONDER BOOK 


made, the afterthought was evidently so swift 
that the author did not stop to blot, for the 
word first written is merely smeared into illegi¬ 
bility and another substituted for it.” 

Hawthorne, as we have seen, anticipated a 
wide circulation, and the book happily has had 
it in the very quarter where one would most 
wish to see it used; for thousands of school 
children in America enter the enchanted land 
of Greek Fable through the gateway of this 
book and its companion. Its immediate suc¬ 
cess compelled a similar venture. From Lenox 
Hawthorne went for the winter to West New¬ 
ton, where he wrote The Blithedale Romance, and 
in the spring of 1852 he took possession of The 
Wayside at Concord. A year later he wrote 
to R. H. Stoddard, March 16, 1853 : “I have 
finished the Tanglewood Tales , and they will 
make a volume about the size of the Wonder 
Book , consisting of six myths, — the Minotaur, 
the Golden Fleece, the story of Proserpine, etc., 
etc., etc., done up in excellent style, purified 
from all moral stains, re-created as good as 
new, or better, and fully equal, in their own 
way, to Mother Goose. I never did anything 
else so well as these old baby stories.” 

The Preface which follows was written for 
the Wonder Book . 


AUTHOR’S PREFACE 


The author has long been of opinion that 
many of the classical myths were capable of 
being rendered into very capital reading for 
children. In the little volume here offered to 
the public, he has worked up half a dozen of 
them, with this end in view. A great freedom 
of treatment was necessary to his plan; but it 
will be observed by every one who attempts to 
render these legends malleable in his intellec¬ 
tual furnace, that they are marvellously indepen¬ 
dent of all temporary modes and circumstances. 
They remain essentially the same, after changes 
that would affect the identity of almost any¬ 
thing else. 

He does not, therefore, plead guilty to a 
sacrilege, in having sometimes shaped anew, as 
his fancy dictated, the forms that have been 
hallowed by an antiquity of two or three thou¬ 
sand years. No epoch of time can claim a 
copyright in these immortal fables. They seem 
never to have been made; and certainly, so 
long as man exists, they can never perish ; but, 
by their indestructibility itself, they are legiti¬ 
mate subjects for every age to clothe with its 
own garniture of manners and sentiment, and 
xiii 


AUTHOR’S PREFACE 


to imbue with its own morality. In the pre¬ 
sent version they may have lost much of their 
classical aspect (or, at all events, the author has 
not been careful to preserve it), and have, per¬ 
haps, assumed a Gothic or romantic guise. 

In performing this pleasant task,— for it 
has been really a task fit for hot weather, and 
one of the most agreeable, of a literary kind, 
which he ever undertook, — the author has not 
always thought it necessary to write downward, 
in order to meet the comprehension of children. 
He has generally suffered the theme to soar, 
whenever such was its tendency, and when he 
himself was buoyant enough to follow without 
an effort. Children possess an unestimated 
sensibility to whatever is deep or high, in im¬ 
agination or feeling, so long as it is simple, like¬ 
wise. It is only the artificial and the complex 
that bewilder them. 

Lenox, July 15, 1851. 


A WONDER BOOK 

FOR GIRLS AND BOYS 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 

TANGLEWOOD PORCH 

Introductory to The Gorgon*s Head 

B ENEATH the porch of the country-seat 
called Tanglewood, one fine autumnal 
morning, was assembled a merry party 
of little folks, with a tall youth in the midst of 
them. They had planned a nutting expedition, 
and were impatiently waiting for the mists to 
roll up the hill-slopes, and for the sun to pour 
the warmth of the Indian summer over the fields 
and pastures, and into the nooks of the many- 
colored woods. There was a prospect of as fine 
a day as ever gladdened the aspect of this beau¬ 
tiful and comfortable world. As yet, however, 
the morning mist filled up the whole length and 
breadth of the valley, above which, on a gently 
sloping eminence, the mansion stood. 

This body of white vapor extended to within 
less than a hundred yards of the house. It com- 

i 


A WONDER BOOK 


pletely hid everything beyond that distance, ex¬ 
cept a few ruddy or yellow treetops, which here 
and there emerged, and were glorified by the 
early sunshine, as was likewise the broad surface 
of the mist. Four or five miles off to the south¬ 
ward rose the summit of Monument Mountain, 
and seemed to be floating on a cloud. Some fif¬ 
teen miles farther away, in the same direction, 
appeared the loftier Dome of Taconic, looking 
blue and indistinct, and hardly so substantial as 
the vapory sea that almost rolled over it. The 
nearer hills, which bordered the valley, were half 
submerged, and were specked with little cloud 
wreaths all the way to their tops. On the whole, 
there was so much cloud, and so little solid earth, 
that it had the effect of a vision. 

The children above mentioned, being as full 
of life as they could hold, kept overflowing from 
the porch of Tanglewood, and scampering along 
the gravel walk, or rushing across the dewy herb¬ 
age of the lawn. I can hardly tell how many 
of these small people there were ; not less than 
nine or ten, however, nor more than a dozen, of 
all sorts, sizes, and ages, whether girls or boys. 
They were brothers, sisters, and cousins, to¬ 
gether with a few of their young acquaintances, 
who had been invited by Mr. and Mrs. Pringle 
to spend some of this delightful weather with 
their own children, at Tanglewood. I am afraid 
to tell you their names, or even to give them 


TANGLEWOOD PORCH 


any names which other children have ever been 
called by; because, to my certain knowledge, 
authors sometimes get themselves into great 
trouble by accidentally giving the names of real 
persons to the characters in their books. For this 
reason, I mean to call them Primrose, Periwin¬ 
kle, Sweet Fern, Dandelion, Blue Eye, Clover, 
Huckleberry, Cowslip, Squash-Blossom, Milk¬ 
weed, Plantain, and Buttercup; although, to be 
sure, such titles might better suit a group of 
fairies than a company of earthly children. 

It is not to be supposed that these little folks 
were to be permitted by their careful fathers and 
mothers, uncles, aunts, or grandparents, to stray 
abroad into the woods and fields, without the 
guardianship of some particularly grave and 
elderly person. O no, indeed ! In the first 
sentence of my book, you will recollect that I 
spoke of a tall youth, standing in the midst of 
the children. His name — (and I shall let you 
know his real name, because he considers it a 
great honor to have told the stories that are here 
to be printed) — his name was Eustace Bright. 
He was a student at Williams College, and had 
reached, I think, at this period, the venerable 
age of eighteen years ; so that he felt quite like 
a grandfather towards Periwinkle, Dandelion, 
Huckleberry, Squash-Blossom, Milkweed, and 
the rest, who were only half or a third as vener¬ 
able as he. A trouble in his eyesight (such as 
3 


A WONDER BOOK 


many students think it necessary to have, now¬ 
adays, in order to prove their diligence at their 
books) had kept him from college a week or two 
after the beginning of the term. But, for my 
part, I have seldom met with a pair of eyes that 
looked as if they could see farther or better than 
those of Eustace Bright. 

This learned student was slender, and rather 
pale, as all Yankee students are ; but yet of a 
healthy aspect, and as light and active as if he 
had wings to his shoes. By the bye, being much 
addicted to wading through streamlets and across 
meadows, he had put on cowhide boots for the 
expedition. He wore a linen blouse, a cloth 
cap, and a pair of green spectacles, which he had 
assumed, probably, less for the preservation of 
his eyes than for the dignity that they imparted 
to his countenance. In either case, however, 
he might as well have let them alone ; for Huc¬ 
kleberry, a mischievous little elf, crept behind 
Eustace as he sat on the steps of the porch, 
snatched the spectacles from his nose, and 
clapped them on her own ; and as the student 
forgot to take them back, they fell off into the 
grass, and lay there till the next spring. 

Now, Eustace Bright, you must know, had 
won great fame among the children, as a narra¬ 
tor of wonderful stories ; and though he some¬ 
times pretended to be annoyed, when they teased 
him for more, and more, and always for more. 


TANGLEWOOD PORCH 


yet I really doubt whether he liked anything 
quite so well as to tell them. You might have 
seen his eyes twinkle, therefore, when Clover, 
Sweet Fern, Cowslip, Buttercup, and most of 
their playmates besought him to relate one of 
his stories, while they were waiting for the mist 
to clear up. 

“ Yes, Cousin Eustace,” said Primrose, who 
was a bright girl of twelve, with laughing eyes 
and a nose that turned up a little, “ the morn¬ 
ing is certainly the best time for the stories with 
which you so often tire out our patience. We 
shall be in less danger of hurting your feelings, 
by falling asleep at the most interesting points, 
— as little Cowslip and I did last night! ” 

“ Naughty Primrose,” cried Cowslip, a child 
of six years old; “ I did not fall asleep, and I 
only shut my eyes, so as to see a picture of 
what Cousin Eustace was telling about. His 
stories are good to hear at night, because we 
can dream about them asleep; and good in the 
morning, too, because then we can dream about 
them awake. So I hope he will tell us one this 
very minute.” 

“ Thank you, my little Cowslip,” said Eus¬ 
tace ; “ certainly you shall have the best story I 
can think of, if it were only for defending me 
so well from that naughty Primrose. But, chil¬ 
dren, I have already told you so many fairy 
tales, that I doubt whether there is a single one 
5 


A WONDER BOOK 


which you have not heard at least twice over. 
I am afraid you will fall asleep in reality, if I 
repeat any of them again.” 

“ No, no, no ! ” cried Blue Eye, Periwinkle, 
Plantain, and half a dozen others. “ We like 
a story all the better for having heard it two or 
three times before.” 

And it is a truth, as regards children, that a 
story seems often to deepen its mark in their 
interest, not merely by two or three, but by 
numberless repetitions. But Eustace Bright, in 
the exuberance of his resources, scorned to avail 
himself of an advantage which an older story¬ 
teller would have been glad to grasp at. 

“ It would be a great pity,” said he, “ if a 
man of my learning (to say nothing of original 
fancy) could not find a new story every day, 
year in and year out, for children such as you. 
I will tell you one of the nursery tales that were 
made for the amusement of our great old grand¬ 
mother, the Earth, when she was a child in frock 
and pinafore. There are a hundred such ; and 
it is a wonder to me that they have not long ago 
been put into picture-books for little girls and 
boys. But, instead of that, old gray-bearded 
grandsires pore over them in musty volumes 
of Greek, and puzzle themselves with trying to 
find out when, and how, and for what they were 
made.” 

“ Well, well, well, well, Cousin Eustace ! ” 
6 


TANGLEWOOD PORCH 


cried all the children at once; cc talk no more 
about your stories, but begin.” 

cc Sit down, then, every soul of you,” said 
Eustace Bright, “ and be all as still as so many 
mice. At the slightest interruption, whether 
from great, naughty Primrose, little Dandelion, 
or any other, I shall bite the story short off be¬ 
tween my teeth, and swallow the untold part. 
But, in the first place, do any of you know what 
a Gorgon is ? ” 

“ I do,” said Primrose. 
cc Then hold your tongue ! ” rejoined Eus¬ 
tace, who had rather she would have known 
nothing about the matter. “ Hold all your 
tongues, and I shall tell you a sweet pretty 
story of a Gorgon’s head.” 

And so he did, as you may begin to read on 
the next page. Working up his sophomorical 
erudition with a good deal of tact, and incurring 
great obligations to Professor Anthon, he, never¬ 
theless, disregarded all classical authorities, when¬ 
ever the vagrant audacity of his imagination im¬ 
pelled him to do so. 


7 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


P ERSEUS was the son of Danae, who was 
the daughter of a king. And when Per¬ 
seus was a very little boy, some wicked 
people put his mother and himself into a chest, 
and set them afloat upon the sea. The wind 
blew freshly, and drove the chest away from the 
shore, and the uneasy billows tossed it up and 
down ; while Danae clasped her child closely to 
her bosom, and dreaded that some big wave 
would dash its foamy crest over them both. 
The chest sailed on, however, and neither sank 
nor was upset; until, when night was coming, 
it floated so near an island that it got entangled 
in a fisherman’s nets, and was drawn out high 
and dry upon the sand. The island was called 
Seriphus, and it was reigned over by King Poly- 
dectes, who happened to be the fisherman’s 
brother. 

This fisherman, I am glad to tell you, was 
an exceedingly humane and upright man. He 
showed great kindness to Danae and her little 
boy ; and continued to befriend them, until 
Perseus had grown to be a handsome youth, 
very strong and active, and skilful in the use of 
arms. Long before this time, King Polydectes 
8 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 

had seen the two strangers — the mother and 
her child — who had come to his dominions in 
a floating chest. As he was not good and kind, 
like his brother the fisherman, but extremely 
wicked, he resolved to send Perseus on a dan¬ 
gerous enterprise, in which he would probably 
be killed, and then to do some great mischief 
to Danae herself. So this bad-hearted king 
spent a long while in considering what was the 
most dangerous thing that a young man could 
possibly undertake to perform. At last, having 
hit upon an enterprise that promised to turn 
out as fatally as he desired, he sent for the 
youthful Perseus. 

The young man came to the palace, and 
found the king sitting upon his throne. 

“ Perseus/’ said King Polydectes, smiling 
craftily upon him, “ you are grown up a fine 
young man. You and your good mother have 
received a great deal of kindness from myself, 
as well as from my worthy brother the fisher¬ 
man, and I suppose you would not be sorry to 
repay some of it.” 

“ Please your Majesty,” answered Perseus, 
“ I would willingly risk my life to do so.” 

“ Well, then,” continued the king, still with 
a cunning smile on his lips, “ I have a little ad¬ 
venture to propose to you ; and, as you are a 
brave and enterprising youth, you will doubtless 
look upon it as a great piece of good luck to 
9 


A WONDER BOOK 


have so rare an opportunity of distinguishing 
yourself. You must know, my good Perseus, 
I think of getting married to the beautiful Prin¬ 
cess Hippodamia ; and it is customary, on these 
occasions, to make the bride a present of some 
far-fetched and elegant curiosity. I have been 
a little perplexed, I must honestly confess, where 
to obtain anything likely to please a princess of 
her exquisite taste. But, this morning, I flat¬ 
ter myself, I have thought of precisely the arti- 
cle. ,, 

“ And can I assist your Majesty in obtaining 
it ? ” cried Perseus eagerly. 

“You can, if you are as brave a youth as I 
believe you to be,” replied King Polydectes, 
with the utmost graciousness of manner. “The 
bridal gift which I have set my heart on pre¬ 
senting to the beautiful Hippodamia is the head 
of the Gorgon Medusa with the snaky locks; 
and I depend on you, my dear Perseus, to bring 
it to me. So, as I am anxious to settle affairs 
with the princess, the sooner you go in quest 
of the Gorgon, the better I shall be pleased.” 

“ I will set out to-morrow morning,” an¬ 
swered Perseus. 

“ Pray do so, my gallant youth,” rejoined 
the king. “ And, Perseus, in cutting off the 
Gorgon’s head, be careful to make a clean stroke, 
so as not to injure its appearance. You must 
bring it home in the very best condition, in 
io 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


order to suit the exquisite taste of the beautiful 
Princess Hippodamia.” 

Perseus left the palace, but was scarcely out 
of hearing before Polydectes burst into a laugh ; 
being greatly amused, wicked king that he was, 
to find how readily the young man fell into the 
snare. The news quickly spread abroad that 
Perseus had undertaken to cut off the head 
of Medusa with the snaky locks. Everybody 
was rejoiced; for most of the inhabitants of the 
island were as wicked as the king himself, and 
would have liked nothing better than to see 
some enormous mischief happen to Danae and 
her son. The only good man in this unfortu¬ 
nate island of Seriphus appears to have been the 
fisherman. As Perseus walked along, therefore, 
the people pointed after him, and made mouths, 
and winked to one another, and ridiculed him 
as loudly as they dared. 

“ Ho, ho!” cried they; “ Medusa’s snakes 
will sting him soundly ! ” 

Now, there were three Gorgons alive at that 
period; and they were the most strange and 
terrible monsters that had ever been since the 
world was made, or that have been seen in after 
days, or that are likely to be seen in all time 
to come. I hardly know what sort of creature 
or hobgoblin to call them. They were three 
sisters, and seem to have borne some distant 
resemblance to women, but were really a very 
ii 


A WONDER BOOK 


frightful and mischievous species of dragon. It 
is, indeed, difficult to imagine what hideous be¬ 
ings these three sisters were. Why, instead of 
locks of hair, if you can believe me, they had 
each of them a hundred enormous snakes grow¬ 
ing on their heads, — all alive, twisting, wrig¬ 
gling, curling, and thrusting out their venomous 
tongues, with forked stings at the end ! The 
teeth of the Gorgons were terribly long tusks ; 
their hands were made of brass ; and their bodies 
were all over scales, which, if not iron, were 
something as hard and impenetrable. They 
had wings, too, and exceedingly splendid ones, 
I can assure you; for every feather in them 
was pure, bright, glittering, burnished gold, and 
they looked very dazzlingly, no doubt, when the 
Gorgons were flying about in the sunshine. 

But when people happened to catch a glimpse 
of their glittering brightness, aloft in the air, 
they seldom stopped to gaze, but ran and hid 
themselves as speedily as they could. You will 
think, perhaps, that they were afraid of being 
stung by the serpents that served the Gorgons 
instead of hair, — or of having their heads bit¬ 
ten off by their ugly tusks, — or of being torn 
all to pieces by their brazen claws. Well, to 
be sure, these were some of the dangers, but 
by no means the greatest, nor the most difficult 
to avoid. For the worst thing about these 
abominable Gorgons was, that, if once a poor 
12 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


mortal fixed his eyes full upon one of their faces, 
he was certain, that very instant, to be changed 
from warm flesh and blood into cold and life¬ 
less stone! 

Thus, as you will easily perceive, it was a 
very dangerous adventure that the wicked King 
Polydectes had contrived for this innocent young 
man. Perseus himself, when he had thought 
over the matter, could not help seeing that he 
had very little chance of coming safely through 
it, and that he was far more likely to become a 
stone image than to bring back the head of 
Medusa with the snaky locks. For, not to 
speak of other difficulties, there was one which 
it would have puzzled an older man than Per¬ 
seus to get over. Not only must he fight with 
and slay this golden-winged, iron-scaled, long- 
tusked, brazen-clawed, snaky-haired monster, 
but he must do it with his eyes shut, or, at 
least, without so much as a glance at the enemy 
with whom he was contending. Else, while his 
arm was lifted to strike, he would stiffen into 
stone, and stand with that uplifted arm for cen¬ 
turies, until time, and the wind and weather, 
should crumble him quite away. This would 
be a very sad thing to befall a young man who 
wanted to perform a great many brave deeds, 
and to enjoy a great deal of happiness, in this 
bright and beautiful world. 

So disconsolate did these thoughts make him, 
*3 


A WONDER BOOK 


that Perseus could not bear to tell his mother 
what he had undertaken to do. He therefore 
took his shield, girded on his sword, and crossed 
over from the island to the mainland, where he 
sat down in a solitary place, and hardly refrained 
from shedding tears. 

But, while he was in this sorrowful mood, he 
heard a voice close beside him. 

“ Perseus,” said the voice, “ why are you 
sad ? ” 

He lifted his head from his hands, in which 
he had hidden it, and, behold! all alone as 
Perseus had supposed himself to be, there was 
a stranger in the solitary place. It was a 
brisk, intelligent, and remarkably shrewd-look- 
ing young man, with a cloak over his shoulders, 
an odd sort of cap on his head, a strangely 
twisted staff in his hand, and a short and very 
crooked sword hanging by his side. He was 
exceedingly light and active in his figure, like 
a person much accustomed to gymnastic exer¬ 
cises, and well able to leap or run. Above all, 
the stranger had such a cheerful, knowing, and 
helpful aspect (though it was certainly a little 
mischievous, into the bargain), that Perseus 
could not help feeling his spirits grow livelier 
as he gazed at him. Besides, being really a 
courageous youth, he felt greatly ashamed that 
anybody should have found him with tears in 
his eyes, like a timid little schoolboy, when, 
H 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


after all, there might be no occasion for de¬ 
spair. So Perseus wiped his eyes, and answered 
the stranger pretty briskly, putting on as brave 
a look as he could. 

“ I am not so very sad,” said he, “ only 
thoughtful about an adventure that I have un¬ 
dertaken.” 

“ Oho ! ” answered the stranger. “ Well, tell 
me all about it, and possibly I may be of Ser¬ 
vice to you. I have helped a good many young 
men through adventures that looked difficult 
enough beforehand. Perhaps you may have 
heard of me. I have more names than one ; but 
the name of Quicksilver suits me as well as any 
other. Tell me what the trouble is, and we will 
talk the matter over, and see what can be done.” 

The stranger’s words and manner put Per¬ 
seus into quite a different mood from his for¬ 
mer one. He resolved to tell Quicksilver all 
his difficulties, since he could not easily be 
worse off than he already was, and, very possi¬ 
bly, his new friend might give him some advice 
that would turn out well in the end. So he let 
the stranger know, in few words, precisely what 
the case was, — how that King Polydectes 
wanted the head of Medusa with the snaky 
locks as a bridal gift for the beautiful Princess 
Hippodamia, and how that he had undertaken 
to get it for him, but was afraid of being turned 
into stone. 


i5 


A WONDER BOOK 


M And that would be a great pity,” said 
Quicksilver, with his mischievous smile. “ You 
would make a very handsome marble statue, it 
is true, and it would be a considerable number 
of centuries before you crumbled away; but, on 
the whole, one would rather be a young man 
for a few years, than a stone image for a great 
many.” 

“ O, far rather! ” exclaimed Perseus, with the 
tears again standing in his eyes. “ And, besides, 
what would my dear mother do, if her beloved 
son were turned into a stone ? ” 

“ Well, well, let us hope that the affair will 
not turn out so very badly,” replied Quicksil¬ 
ver in an encouraging tone. “ I am the very 
person to help you, iPanybody can. My sister 
and myself will do our utmost to bring you 
safe through the adventure, ugly as it now 
looks.” 

cc Your sister ? ” repeated Perseus. 

“ Yes, my sister,” said the stranger. “ She 
is very wise, I promise you; and as for myself 
I generally have all my wits about me, such as 
they are. If you show yourself bold and cau¬ 
tious, and follow our advice, you need not fear 
being a stone image yet awhile. But, first of 
all, you must polish your shield, till you can 
see your face in it as distinctly as in a mir¬ 
ror.” 

This seemed to Perseus rather an odd begin- 
16 


THE GORGON'S HEAD 


ning of the adventure ; for he thought it of far 
more consequence that the shield should be 
strong enough to defend him from the Gorgon’s 
brazen claws, than that it should be bright 
enough to show him the reflection of his face. 
However, concluding that Quicksilver knew 
better than himself, he immediately set to work, 
and scrubbed the shield with so much diligence 
and good will, that it very quickly shone like 
the moon at harvest-time. Quicksilver looked 
at it with a smile, and nodded his approbation. 
Then, taking off his own short and crooked 
sword, he girded it about Perseus, instead of 
the one which he had before worn. 

“ No sword but mine will answer your pur¬ 
pose,” observed he ; “ the blade has a most 
excellent temper, and will cut through iron and 
brass as easily as through the slenderest twig. 
And now we will set out. The next thing is to 
find the Three Gray Women, who will tell us 
where to find the Nymphs.” 

<c The Three Gray Women ! ” cried Perseus, 
to whom this seemed only a new difficulty in 
the path of his adventure ; “ pray who may the 
Three Gray Women be ? I never heard of 
them before.” 

“ They are three very strange old ladies,” 
said Quicksilver, laughing. “ They have but 
one eye among them, and only one tooth. 
Moreover, you must find them out by star- 

17 


A WONDER BOOK 


light, or in the dusk of the evening ; for they 
never show themselves by the light either of the 
sun or moon/’ 

“ But,” said Perseus, “ why should I waste 
my time with these Three Gray Women ? 
Would it not be better to set out at once in 
search of the terrible Gorgons ? ” 

“ No, no,” answered his friend. “ There are 
other things to be done, before you can find 
your way to the Gorgons. There is nothing 
for it but to hunt up these old ladies; and when 
we meet with them, you may be sure that the 
Gorgons are not a great way off. Come, let us 
be stirring! ” 

Perseus, by this time, felt so much confidence 
in his companion’s sagacity, that he made no 
more objections, and professed himself ready 
to begin the adventure immediately. They 
accordingly set out, and walked at a pretty brisk 
pace; so brisk, indeed, that Perseus found it 
rather difficult to keep up with his nimble friend 
Quicksilver. To say the truth, he had a singu¬ 
lar idea that Quicksilver was furnished with a 
pair of winged shoes, which, of course, helped 
him along marvellously. And then, too, when 
Perseus looked sideways at him, out of the cor¬ 
ner of his eye, he seemed to see wings on the 
side of his head; although, if he turned a full 
gaze, there were no such things to be perceived, 
but only an odd kind of cap. But, at all events, 
18 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


the twisted staff was evidently a great conven¬ 
ience to Quicksilver, and enabled him to pro¬ 
ceed so fast, that Perseus, though a remarkably 
active young man, began to be out of breath. 

“ Here! ” cried Quicksilver at last, — for he 
knew well enough, rogue that he was, how hard 
Perseus found it to keep pace with him, — 
“ take you the staff, for you need it a great 
deal more than I. Are there no better walkers 
than yourself in the island of Seriphus ? ” 

“ I could walk pretty well,” said Perseus, 
glancing slyly at his companion's feet, “ if I had 
only a pair of winged shoes.” 

“ We must see about getting you a pair,” 
answered Quicksilver. 

But the staff helped Perseus along so bravely, 
that he no longer felt the slightest weariness. In 
fact, the stick seemed to be alive in his hand, 
and to lend some of its life to Perseus. He 
and Quicksilver now walked onward at their 
ease, talking very sociably together; and Quick¬ 
silver told so many pleasant stories about his 
former adventures, and how well his wits had 
served him on various occasions, that Perseus 
began to think him a very wonderful person. 
He evidently knew the world; and nobody is 
so charming to a young man as a friend who has 
that kind of knowledge. Perseus listened the 
more eagerly, in the hope of brightening his own 
wits by what he heard. 


A WONDER BOOK 


At last, he happened to recollect that Quick¬ 
silver had spoken of a sister, who was to lend 
her assistance in the adventure which they were 
now bound upon. 

“ Where is she ? ” he inquired. “ Shall we 
not meet her soon ? ” 

<c All at the proper time,” said his companion. 
“ But this sister of mine, you must understand, 
is quite a different sort of character from myself. 
She is very grave and prudent, seldom smiles, 
never laughs, and makes it a rule not to utter a 
word unless she has something particularly pro¬ 
found to say. Neither will she listen to any 
but the wisest conversation.” 

“ Dear me ! ” ejaculated Perseus ; “I shall be 
afraid to say a syllable.” 

“ She is a very accomplished person, I assure 
you,” continued Quicksilver, “ and has all the 
arts and sciences at her fingers' ends. In short, 
she is so immoderately wise, that many people 
call her wisdom personified. But, to tell you 
the truth, she has hardly vivacity enough for 
my taste; and I think you would scarcely find 
her so pleasant a travelling companion as my¬ 
self. She has her good points, nevertheless; 
and you will find the benefit of them, in your 
encounter with the Gorgons.” 

By this time it had grown quite dusk. They 
were now come to a very wild and desert place, 
overgrown with shaggy bushes, and so silent 
20 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


and solitary that nobody seemed ever to have 
dwelt or journeyed there. All was waste and 
desolate, in the gray twilight, which grew every 
moment more obscure. Perseus looked about 
him, rather disconsolately, and asked Quicksil¬ 
ver whether they had a great deal farther to go. 

“ Hist! hist! ” whispered his companion. 
“ Make no noise ! This is just the time and 
place to meet the Three Gray Women. Be 
careful that they do not see you before you see 
them; for, though they have but a single eye 
among the three, it is as sharp-sighted as half 
a dozen common eyes.” 

“ But what must I do,” asked Perseus, 
" when we meet them ? ” 

Quicksilver explained to Perseus how the 
Three Gray Women managed with their one 
eye. They were in the habit, it seems, of 
changing it from one to another, as if it had 
been a pair of spectacles, or — which would 
have suited them better — a quizzing-glass. 
When one of the three had kept the eye a cer¬ 
tain time, she took it out of the socket and 
passed it to one of her sisters, whose turn it 
might happen to be, and who immediately 
clapped it into her own head, and enjoyed a 
peep at the visible world. Thus it will easily be 
understood that only one of the Three Gray 
Women could see, while the other two were in 
utter darkness ; and, moreover, at the instant 


A WONDER BOOK 


when the eye was passing from hand to hand, 
neither of the poor old ladies was able to see 
a wink. I have heard of a great many strange 
things in my day, and have witnessed not a 
few; but none, it seems to me, that can com¬ 
pare with the oddity of these Three Gray Wo¬ 
men, all peeping through a single eye. 

So thought Perseus, likewise, and was so as¬ 
tonished that he almost fancied his companion 
was joking with him, and that there were no 
such old women in the world. 

“ You will soon find whether I tell the truth 
or no,” observed Quicksilver. “ Hark ! hush ! 
hist! hist! There they come, now ! ” 

Persus looked earnestly through the dusk of 
the evening, and there, sure enough, at no great 
distance off, he descried the Three Gray Wo¬ 
men. The light being so faint, he could not 
well make out what sort of figures they were ; 
only he discovered that they had long gray 
hair; and, as they came nearer, he saw that two 
of them had but the empty socket of an eye, 
in the middle of their foreheads. But, in the 
middle of the third sister's forehead, there was 
a very large, bright, and piercing eye, which 
sparkled like a great diamond in a ring ; and 
so penetrating did it seem to be, that Perseus 
could not help thinking it must possess the gift 
of seeing in the darkest midnight just as per¬ 
fectly as at noonday. The sight of three per- 
22 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


sons’ eyes was melted and collected into that 
single one. 

Thus the three old dames got along about as 
comfortably, upon the whole, as if they could 
all see at once. She who chanced to have the 
eye in her forehead led the other two by the 
hands, peeping sharply about her, all the while ; 
insomuch that Perseus dreaded lest she should 
see right through the thick clump of bushes 
behind which he and Quicksilver had hidden 
themselves. My stars ! it was positively terri¬ 
ble to be within reach of so very sharp an eye! 

But before they reached the clump of bushes 
one of the Three Gray Women spoke. 

“ Sister! Sister Scarecrow! ” cried she, “ you 
have had the eye long enough. It is my turn 
now ! ” 

“ Let me keep it a moment longer, Sister 
Nightmare,” answered Scarecrow. “ I thought 
I had a glimpse of something behind that thick 
bush.” 

“ Well, and what of that ? ” retorted Night¬ 
mare peevishly. “ Can’t I see into a thick bush 
as easily as yourself? The eye is mine as well 
as yours; and I know the use of it as well as 
you, or may be a little better. I insist upon 
taking a peep immediately! ” 

But here the third sister, whose name was 
Shakejoint, began to complain, and said that it 
was her turn to have the eye, and that Scare- 

23 


C 


A WONDER BOOK 


crow and Nightmare wanted to keep it all to 
themselves. To end the dispute, old Dame 
Scarecrow took the eye out of her forehead, and 
held it forth in her hand. 

“ Take it, one of you,” cried she, “and quit 
this foolish quarrelling. For my part, I shall 
be glad of a little thick darkness. Take it 
quickly, however, or I must clap it into my 
own head again ! ” 

Accordingly, both Nightmare and Shakejoint 
put out their hands, groping eagerly to snatch 
the eye out of the hand of Scarecrow. But, 
being both alike blind, they could not easily 
find where Scarecrow's hand was ; and Scare¬ 
crow, being now just as much in the dark as 
Shakejoint and Nightmare, could not at once 
meet either of their hands, in order to put the 
eye into it. Thus (as you will see, with half 
an eye, my wise little auditors), these good old 
dames had fallen into a strange perplexity. For, 
though the eye shone and glistened like a star, 
as Scarecrow held it out, yet the Gray Women 
caught not the least glimpse of its light, and 
were all three in utter darkness, from too impa¬ 
tient a desire to see. 

Quicksilver was so much tickled at behold¬ 
ing Shakejoint and Nightmare both groping for 
the eye, and each finding fault with Scarecrow 
and one another, that he could scarcely help 
laughing aloud. 


24 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


“ Now is your time ! ” he whispered to Per¬ 
seus. “ Quick, quick ! before they can clap 
the eye into either of their heads. Rush out 
upon the old ladies, and snatch it from Scare¬ 
crow’s hand! ” 

In an instant, while the Three Gray Women 
were still scolding each other, Perseus leaped 
from behind the clump of bushes, and made 
himself master of the prize. The marvellous 
eye, as he held it in his hand, shone very 
brightly, and seemed to look up into his face 
with a knowing air, and an expression as if it 
would have winked, had it been provided with 
a pair of eyelids for that purpose. But the 
Gray Women knew nothing of what had hap¬ 
pened ; and, each supposing that one of her 
sisters was in possession of the eye, they began 
their quarrel anew. At last, as Perseus did not 
wish to put these respectable dames to greater 
inconvenience than was really necessary, he 
thought it right to explain the matter. 

“ My good ladies,” said he, “ pray do not be 
angry with one another. If anybody is in fault, 
it is myself; for I have the honor to hold your 
very brilliant and excellent eye in my own 
hand! ” 

“ You ! you have our eye ! And who are 
you ? ” screamed the Three Gray Women, all 
in a breath; for they were terribly frightened, 
of course, at hearing a strange voice, and discov- 

25 


A WONDER BOOK 


ering that their eyesight had got into the hands 
of they could not guess whom. “ O, what shall 
we do, sisters ? what shall we do ? We are all 
in the dark ! Give us our eye ! Give us our 
one, precious, solitary eye ! You have two of 
your own ! Give us our eye ! ” 

“Tell them,” whispered Quicksilver to Per¬ 
seus, “ that they shall have back the eye as soon 
as they direct you where to find the Nymphs 
who have the flying slippers, the magic wallet, 
and the helmet of darkness.” 

“ My dear, good, admirable old ladies,” said 
Perseus, addressing the Gray Women, “there 
is no occasion for putting yourselves into such 
a fright. I am by no means a bad young man. 
You shall have back your eye, safe and sound, 
and as bright as ever, the moment you tell me 
where to find the Nymphs.” 

“ The Nymphs ! Goodness me ! sisters, what 
Nymphs does he mean ? ” screamed Scarecrow. 
“ There are a great many Nymphs, people say; 
some that go a hunting in the woods, and some 
that live inside of trees, and some that have a 
comfortable home in fountains of water. We 
know nothing at all about them. We are three 
unfortunate old souls, that go wandering about 
in the dusk, and never had but one eye amongst 
us, and that one you have stolen away. O, give 
it back, good stranger ! — whoever you are, give 
it back ! ” 


26 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


All this while the Three Gray Women were 
groping with their outstretched hands, and try¬ 
ing their utmost to get hold of Perseus. But 
he took good care to keep out of their reach. 

“ My respectable dames,” said he, — for his 
mother had taught him always to use the great¬ 
est civility, — “ I hold your eye fast in my hand, 
and shall keep it safely for you, until you please 
to tell me where to find these Nymphs. The 
Nymphs, I mean, who keep the enchanted wal¬ 
let, the flying slippers, and the — what is it ? — 
the helmet of invisibility.” 

“ Mercy on us, sisters ! what is the young 
man talking about ? ” exclaimed Scarecrow, 
Nightmare, and Shakejoint, one to another, with 
great appearance of astonishment. “ A pair of 
flying slippers, quoth he! His heels would 
quickly fly higher than his head, if he were silly 
enough to put them on. And a helmet of 
invisibility! How could a helmet make him 
invisible, unless it were big enough for him 
to hide under it ? And an enchanted wallet! 
What sort of a contrivance may that be, I won¬ 
der ? No, no, good stranger ! we can tell you 
nothing of these marvellous things. You have 
two eyes of your own, and we have but a single 
one amongst us three. You can find out such 
wonders better than three blind old creatures 
like us.” 

Perseus, hearing them talk in this way, began 
27 


A WONDER BOOK 


really to think that the Gray Women knew no¬ 
thing of the matter; and, as it grieved him to 
have put them to so much trouble, he was just 
on the point of restoring their eye and asking 
pardon for his rudeness in snatching it away. 
But Quicksilver caught his hand. 

“ Don’t let them make a fool of you ! ” said 
he. “ These Three Gray Women are the only 
persons in the world that can tell you where 
to find the Nymphs, — and, unless you get 
that information, you will never succeed in cut¬ 
ting off the head of Medusa with the snaky 
locks. Keep fast hold of the eye, and all will 
go well.” 

As it turned out, Quicksilver was in the right. 
There are but few things that people prize so 
much as they do their eyesight; and the Gray 
Women valued their single eye as highly as if 
it had been half a dozen, which was the number 
they ought to have had. Finding that there 
was no other way of recovering it, they at last 
told Perseus what he wanted to know. No 
sooner had they done so, than he immediately, 
and with the utmost respect, clapped the eye 
into the vacant socket in one of their foreheads, 
thanked them for their kindness, and bade them 
farewell. Before the young man was out of 
hearing, however, they had got into a new dis¬ 
pute, because he happened to have given the 
eye to Scarecrow, who had already taken her 
28 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 

turn of it when their trouble with Perseus com¬ 
menced. 

It is greatly to be feared that the Three Gray 
Women were very much in the habit of disturb¬ 
ing their mutual harmony by bickerings of this 
sort; which was the more pity, as they could 
not conveniently do without one another, and 
were evidently intended to be inseparable com¬ 
panions. As a general rule, I would advise all 
people, whether sisters or brothers, old or young, 
who chance to have but one eye amongst them, 
to cultivate forbearance, and not all insist upon 
peeping through it at once. 

Quicksilver and Perseus, in the mean time, 
were making the best of their way in quest of 
the Nymphs. The old dames had given them 
such particular directions, that they were not 
long in finding them out. They proved to be 
very different persons from Nightmare, Shake- 
joint, and Scarecrow ; for, instead of being old, 
they were young and beautiful; and instead of 
one eye amongst the sisterhood, each Nymph 
had two exceedingly bright eyes of her own, 
with which she looked very kindly at Perseus. 
They seemed to be acquainted with Quicksilver; 
and, when he told them the adventure which 
Perseus had undertaken, they made no difficulty 
about giving him the valuable articles that were 
in their custody. In the first place, they brought 
out what appeared to be a small purse, made of 
29 


A WONDER BOOK 


deer skin, and curiously embroidered, and bade 
him be sure and keep it safe. This was the 
magic wallet. The Nymphs next produced a 
pair of shoes, or slippers, or sandals, with a nice 
little pair of wings at the heel of each. 

“ Put them on, Perseus,” said Quicksilver. 
“ You will find yourself as light-heeled as you 
can desire for the remainder of our journey.” 

So Perseus proceeded to put one of the slip¬ 
pers on, while he laid the other on the ground 
by his side. Unexpectedly, however, this other 
slipper spread its wings, fluttered up off the 
ground, and would probably have flown away, 
if Quicksilver had not made a leap, and luckily 
caught it in the air. 

“ Be more careful,” said he, as he gave it back 
to Perseus. “ It would frighten the birds, up 
aloft, if they should see a flying slipper amongst 
them.” 

When Perseus had got on both of these won¬ 
derful slippers, he was altogether too buoyant 
to tread on earth. Making a step or two, lo 
and behold ! upward he popped into the air, 
high above the heads of Quicksilver and the 
Nymphs, and found it very difficult to clam¬ 
ber down again. Winged slippers, and all such 
high-flying contrivances, are seldom quite easy 
to manage until one grows a little accustomed 
to them. Quicksilver laughed at his compan¬ 
ion’s involuntary activity, and told him that he 
30 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


must not be in so desperate a hurry, but must 
wait for the invisible helmet. 

The good-natured Nymphs had the helmet, 
with its dark tuft of waving plumes, all in readi¬ 
ness to put upon his head. And now there 
happened about as wonderful an incident as 
anything that I have yet told you. The instant 
before the helmet was put on, there stood Per¬ 
seus, a beautiful young man, with golden ring¬ 
lets and rosy cheeks, the crooked sword by his 
side, and the brightly polished shield upon his 
arm, — a figure that seemed all made up of 
courage, sprightliness, and glorious light. But 
when the helmet had descended over his white 
brow, there was no longer any Perseus to be 
seen ! Nothing but empty air ! Even the hel¬ 
met, that covered him with its invisibility, had 
vanished ! 

“ Where are you, Perseus ? ” asked Quick¬ 
silver. 

“ Why, here, to be sure! ” answered Perseus 
very quietly, although his voice seemed to come 
out of the transparent atmosphere. “Just 
where I was a moment ago. Don't you see 
me ? ” 

“ No, indeed ! ” answered his friend. “ You 
are hidden under the helmet. But, if I can¬ 
not see you, neither can the Gorgons. Follow 
me, therefore, and we will try your dexterity in 
using the winged slippers." 

3 1 


A WONDER BOOK 


With these words, Quicksilver’s cap spread 
its wings, as if his head were about to fly away 
from his shoulders ; but his whole figure rose 
lightly into the air, and Perseus followed. By 
the time they had ascended a few hundred feet, 
the young man began to feel what a delightful 
thing it was to leave the dull earth so far be¬ 
neath him, and to be able to flit about like a 
bird. 

It was now deep night. Perseus looked up¬ 
ward, and saw the round, bright, silvery moon, 
and thought that he should desire nothing bet¬ 
ter than to soar up thither, and spend his life 
there. Then he looked downward again, and 
saw the earth, with its seas and lakes, and the 
silver courses of its rivers, and its snowy moun¬ 
tain-peaks, and the breadth of its fields, and the 
dark cluster of its woods, and its cities of white 
marble ; and, with the moonshine sleeping over 
the whole scene, it was as beautiful as the moon 
or any star could be. And, among other ob¬ 
jects, he saw the island of Seriphus, where his 
dear mother was. Sometimes he and Quick¬ 
silver approached a cloud, that, at a distance, 
looked as if it were made of fleecy silver; al¬ 
though, when they plunged into it, they found 
themselves chilled and moistened with gray mist. 
So swift was their flight, however, that, in an 
instant, they emerged from the cloud into the 
moonlight again. Once, a high-soaring eagle 
32 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


flew right against the invisible Perseus. The 
bravest sights were the meteors, that gleamed 
suddenly out, as if a bonfire had been kindled 
in the sky, and made the moonshine pale for as 
much as a hundred miles around them. 

As the two companions flew onward, Perseus 
fancied that he could hear the rustle of a gar¬ 
ment close by his side ; and it was on the side 
opposite to the one where he beheld Quicksilver, 
yet only Quicksilver was visible. 

“ Whose garment is this,” inquired Perseus, 
“ that keeps rustling close beside me in the 
breeze ? ” 

“ O, it is my sister’s ! ” answered Qucksilver. 
“ She is coming along with us, as I told you she 
would. We could do nothing without the help 
of my sister. You have no idea how wise she 
is. ' She has such eyes, too ! Why, she can see 
you, at this moment, just as distinctly as if you 
were not invisible ; and I ’ll venture to say, she 
will be the first to discover the Gorgons.” 

By this time, in their swift voyage through 
the air, they had come within sight of the great 
ocean, and were soon flying over it. Far beneath 
them, the waves tossed themselves tumultuously 
in mid-sea, or rolled a white surf-line upon the 
long beaches, or foamed against the rocky cliffs, 
with a roar that was thunderous, in the lower 
world ; although it became a gentle murmur, 
like the voice of a baby half asleep, before it 
33 


A WONDER BOOK 


reached the ears of Perseus. Just then a voice 
spoke in the air close by him. It seemed to 
be a woman’s voice, and was melodious, though 
not exactly what might be called sweet, but 
grave and mild. 

“ Perseus,” said the voice, “ there are the 
Gorgons.” 

“ Where ? ” exclaimed Perseus. “ I cannot 
see them.” 

“ On the shore of that island beneath you,” 
replied the voice. “A pebble, dropped from 
your hand, would strike in the midst of them.” 

<c I told you she would be the first to dis¬ 
cover them,” said Quicksilver to Perseus. “ And 
there they are ! ” 

Straight downward, two or three thousand 
feet below him, Perseus perceived a small island, 
with the sea breaking into white foam all around 
its rocky shore, except on one side, where there 
was a beach of snowy sand. He descended to¬ 
wards it, and, looking earnestly at a cluster or 
heap of brightness, at the foot of a precipice of 
black rocks, behold, there were the terrible Gor¬ 
gons ! They lay fast asleep, soothed by the 
thunder of the sea ; for it required a tumult that 
would have deafened everybody else to lull such 
fierce creatures into slumber. The moonlight 
glistened on their steely scales, and on their 
golden wings, which drooped idly over the sand. 
Their brazen claws, horrible to look at, were 
34 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


thrust out, and clutched the wave-beaten frag¬ 
ments of rock, while the sleeping Gorgons 
dreamed of tearing some poor mortal all to 
pieces. The snakes that served them instead 
of hair seemed likewise to be asleep ; although, 
now and then, one would writhe, and lift its 
head, and thrust out its forked tongue, emitting 
a drowsy hiss, and then let itself subside among 
its sister snakes. 

The Gorgons were more like an awful, gigan¬ 
tic kind of insect, — immense, golden winged 
beetles, or dragon-flies, or things of that sort, 
— at once ugly and beautiful, — than like any¬ 
thing else ; only that they were a thousand and 
a million times as big. And, with all this, there 
was something partly human about them, too. 
Luckily for Perseus, their faces were completely 
hidden from him by the posture in which they 
lay ; for had he but looked one instant at them, 
he would have fallen heavily out of the air, an 
image of senseless stone. 

“ N ow,” whispered Quicksilver, as he hovered 
by the side of Perseus, — “ now is your time 
to do the deed ! Be quick ; for, if one of the 
Gorgons should awake, you are too late ! ” 

“ Which shall I strike at ? ” asked Perseus, 
drawing his sword and descending a little lower. 
“ They all three look alike. All three have 
snaky locks. Which of the three is Medusa ? ” 
It must be understood that Medusa was the 
35 


A WONDER BOOK 


only one of these dragon-monsters whose head 
Perseus could possibly cut off. As for the other 
two, let him have the sharpest sword that ever 
was forged, and he might have hacked away by 
the hour together, without doing them the least 
harm. 

“ Be cautious,” said the calm voice which had 
before spoken to him. “ One of the Gorgons 
is stirring in her sleep, and is just about to turn 
over. That is Medusa. Do not look at her ! 
The sight would turn you to stone ! Look at 
the reflection of her face and figure in the bright 
mirror of your shield.” 

Perseus now understood Quicksilver's motive 
for so earnestly exhorting him to polish his 
shield. In its surface he could safely look at 
the reflection of the Gorgon's face. And there 
it was, — that terrible countenance, — mirrored 
in the brightness of the shield, with the moon¬ 
light falling over it, and displaying all its hor¬ 
ror. The snakes, whose venomous natures 
could not altogether sleep, kept twisting them¬ 
selves over the forehead. It was the fiercest 
and most horrible face that ever was seen or 
imagined, and yet with a strange, fearful, and 
savage kind of beauty in it. The eyes were 
closed, and the Gorgon was still in a deep slum¬ 
ber ; but there was an unquiet expression dis¬ 
turbing her features, as if the monster was 
troubled with an ugly dream. She gnashed her 
36 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


white tusks, and dug into the sand with her 
brazen claws. 

The snakes, too, seemed to feel Medusa’s 
dream, and to be made more restless by it. 
They twined themselves into tumultuous knots, 
writhed fiercely, and uplifted a hundred hissing 
heads, without opening their eyes. 

“Now, now ! ” whispered Quicksilver, who 
was growing impatient. “ Make a dash at the 
monster! ” 

“ But be calm,” said the grave, melodious 
voice at the young man's side. “ Look in your 
shield, as you fly downward, and take care that 
you do not miss your first stroke.” 

Perseus flew cautiously downward, still keep¬ 
ing his eyes on Medusa's face, as reflected in his 
shield. The nearer he came, the more terrible 
did the snaky visage and metallic body of the 
monster grow. At last, when he found himself 
hovering over her within arm’s length, Perseus 
uplifted his sword, while, at the same instant, 
each separate snake upon the Gorgon's head 
stretched threateningly upward, and Medusa 
unclosed her eyes. But she awoke too late. 
The sword was sharp; the stroke fell like a 
lightning flash; and the head of the wicked 
Medusa tumbled from her body! 

“Admirably done ! ” cried Quicksilver. 
“Make haste, and clap the head into your magic 
wallet.'* 


37 


A WONDER BOOK 


To the astonishment of Perseus, the small, 
embroidered wallet, which he had hung about his 
neck, and which had hitherto been no bigger 
than a purse, grew all at once large enough to 
contain Medusa’s head. As quick as thought, 
he snatched it up, with the snakes still writhing 
upon it, and thrust it in. 

“ Your task is done,” said the calm voice. 
“ Now fly ; for the other Gorgons will do their 
utmost to take vengeance for Medusa’s death.” 

It was, indeed, necessary to take flight; for 
Perseus had not done the deed so quietly but 
that the clash of his sword, and the hissing of the 
snakes, and the thump of Medusa’s head as it 
tumbled upon the sea-beaten sand, awoke the 
other two monsters. There they sat, for an 
instant, sleepily rubbing their eyes with their 
brazen fingers, while all the snakes on their heads 
reared themselves on end with surprise, and with 
venomous malice against they knew not what. 
But when the Gorgons saw the scaly carcass 
of Medusa, headless, and her golden wings all 
ruffled, and half spread out on the sand, it was 
really awful to hear what yells and screeches they 
set up. And then the snakes ! They sent forth 
a hundred-fold hiss, with one consent, and Me¬ 
dusa’s snakes answered them out of the magic 
wallet. 

No sooner were the Gorgons broad awake 
than they hurtled upward into the air, brandish- 
38 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


mg their brass talons, gnashing their horrible 
tusks, and flapping their huge wings so wildly, 
that some of the golden feathers were shaken 
out, and floated down upon the shore. And 
there, perhaps, those very feathers lie scattered 
till this day. Up rose the Gorgons, as I tell 
you, staring horribly about, in hopes of turn¬ 
ing somebody to stone. Had Perseus looked 
them in the face, or had he fallen into their 
clutches, his poor mother would never have 
kissed her boy again ! But he took good care 
to turn his eyes another way; and, as he wore 
the helmet of invisibility, the Gorgons knew not 
in what direction to follow him ; nor did he fail 
to make the best use of the winged slippers, by 
soaring upward a perpendicular mile or so. At 
that height, when the screams of those abomina¬ 
ble creatures sounded faintly beneath him, he 
made a straight course for the island of Seriphus, 
in order to carry Medusa’s head to King Poly- 
dectes. 

I have no time to tell you of several marvel¬ 
lous things that befell Perseus, on his way home¬ 
ward ; such as his killing a hideous sea-monster, 
just as it was on the point of devouring a beau¬ 
tiful maiden ; nor how he changed an enormous 
giant into a mountain of stone, merely by show¬ 
ing him the head of the Gorgon. If you doubt 
this latter story, you may make a voyage to 
Africa, some day or other, and see the very 
39 


A WONDER BOOK 


mountain, which is still known by the ancient 
giant’s name. 

Finally, our brave Perseus arrived at the 
island, where he expected to see his dear mother. 
But, during his absence, the wicked king had 
treated Danae so very ill that she was compelled 
to make her escape, and had taken refuge in a 
temple, where some good old priests were ex¬ 
tremely kind to her. These praiseworthy priests, 
and the kind-hearted fisherman, who had first 
shown hospitality to Danae and little Perseus 
when he found them afloat in the chest, seem to 
have been the only persons on the island who 
cared about doing right. All the rest of the 
people, as well as King Polydectes himself, were 
remarkably ill behaved, and deserved no better 
destiny than that which was now to happen. 

Not finding his mother at home, Perseus went 
straight to the palace, and was immediately 
ushered into the presence of the king. Poly¬ 
dectes was by no means rejoiced to see him ; for 
he had felt almost certain, in his own evil mind, 
that the Gorgons would have torn the poor 
young man to pieces, and have eaten him up, 
out of the way. However, seeing him safely 
returned, he put the best face he could upon 
the matter and asked Perseus how he had suc¬ 
ceeded. 

“ Have you performed your promise ? ” in¬ 
quired he. “ Have you brought me the head 
40 


THE GORGON’S HEAD 


of Medusa with the snaky locks ? If not, young 
man, it will cost you dear ; for I must have a 
bridal present for the beautiful Princess Hippo- 
damia, and there is nothing else that she would 
admire so much.” 

“ Yes, please your Majesty,” answered Per¬ 
seus in a quiet way, as if it were no very won¬ 
derful deed for such a young man as he to 
perform. “ I have brought you the Gorgon’s 
head, snaky locks and all! ” 

“ Indeed! Pray let me see it,” quoth King 
Polydectes. “ It must be a very curious spec¬ 
tacle, if all that travellers tell about it be true! ” 
“ Your Majesty is in the right,” replied Per¬ 
seus. “ It is really an object that will be pretty 
certain to fix the regards of all who look at it. 
And, if your Majesty think fit, I would suggest 
that a holiday be proclaimed, and that all your 
Majesty’s subjects be summoned to behold this 
wonderful curiosity. Few of them, I imagine, 
have seen a Gorgon’s head before, and perhaps 
never may again ! ” 

The king well knew that his subjects were 
an idle set of reprobates, and very fond of sight¬ 
seeing, as idle persons usually are. So he took 
the young man’s advice, and sent out heralds 
and messengers, in all directions, to blow the 
trumpet at the street corners, and in the mar¬ 
ket-places, and wherever two roads met, and 
summon everybody to court. Thither, accord- 

41 


A WONDER BOOK 


ingly, came a great multitude of good for no¬ 
thing vagabonds, all of whom, out of pure love 
of mischief, would have been glad if Perseus 
had met with some ill hap in his encounter with 
the Gorgons. If there were any better people 
in the island (as I really hope there may have 
been, although the story tells nothing about any 
such), they stayed quietly at home, minding 
their business, and taking care of their little 
children. Most of the inhabitants, at all events, 
ran as fast as they could to the palace, and 
shoved, and pushed, and elbowed one another, 
in their eagerness to get near a balcony, on 
which Perseus showed himself, holding the em¬ 
broidered wallet in his hand. 

On a platform, within full view of the bal¬ 
cony, sat the mighty King Polydectes, amid his 
evil counsellors, and with his flattering courtiers 
in a semicircle round about him. Monarch, 
counsellors, courtiers, and subjects, all gazed 
eagerly towards Perseus. 

“ Show us the head ! Show us the head! ” 
shouted the people ; and there was a fierceness 
in their cry as if they would tear Perseus to 
pieces, unless he should satisfy them with what 
he had to show. “ Show us the head of Me¬ 
dusa with the snaky locks ! ” 

A feeling of sorrow and pity came over the 
youthful Perseus. 


42 


“Behold it, then!" cried Perseus 





/ 



















THE GORGON’S HEAD 


cc O King Polydectes," cried he, “ and ye 
many people, I am very loath to show you the 
Gorgon's head ! ” 

“ Ah, the villain and coward ! ” yelled the 
people more fiercely than before. “ He is 
making game of us! He has no Gorgon's 
head ! Show us the head, if you have it, or 
we will take your own head for a football! " 

The evil counsellors whispered bad advice in 
the king's ear; the courtiers murmured, with 
one consent, that Perseus had shown disrespect 
to their royal lord and master ; and the great 
King Polydectes himself waved his hand, and 
ordered him, with the stern, deep voice of au¬ 
thority, on his peril, to produce the head. 

“ Show me the Gorgon’s head, or I will cut 
off your own ! " 

And Perseus sighed. 

“ This instant," repeated Polydectes, “ or you 
die !" 

“ Behold it, then ! " cried Perseus in a voice 
like the blast of a trumpet. 

And, suddenly holding up the head, not an 
eyelid had time to wink before the wicked King 
Polydectes, his evil counsellors, and all his fierce 
subjects were no longer anything but the mere 
images of a monarch and his people. They 
were all fixed, forever, in the look and attitude 
of that moment! At the first glimpse of the 
43 


/ 


A WONDER BOOK 


terrible head of Medusa, they whitened into 
marble! And Perseus thrust the head back 
into his wallet, and went to tell his dear mother 
that she need no longer be afraid of the wicked 
King Polydectes. 


44 


TANGLEWOOD PORCH 


AFTER THE STORY 


w 


AS not that a very fine story ? ” asked 
Eustace. 


▼ ▼ “ O yes, yes ! ” cried Cowslip, 

clapping her hands. “And those funny old 
women, with only one eye amongst them ! I 
never heard of anything so strange.” 

“ As to their one tooth, which they shifted 
about,” observed Primrose, “ there was nothing 
so very wonderful in that. I suppose it was a 
false tooth. But think of your turning Mer¬ 
cury into Quicksilver, and talking about his 
sister! You are too ridiculous !” 

“ And was she not his sister ? ” asked Eus¬ 
tace Bright. “ If I had thought of it sooner, 
I would have described her as a maiden lady, 
who kept a pet owl ! ” 

“ Well, at any rate,” said Primrose, “ your 
story seems to have driven away the mist.” 

And, indeed, while the tale was going for¬ 
ward, the vapors had been quite exhaled from 
the landscape. A scene was now disclosed which 
the spectators might almost fancy as having 
been created since they had last looked in the 


45 


/ 


A WONDER BOOK 


direction where it lay. About half a mile dis¬ 
tant, in the lap of the valley, now appeared a 
beautiful lake, which reflected a perfect image 
of its own wooded banks, and of the summits 
of the more distant hills. It gleamed in glassy 
tranquillity, without the trace of a winged breeze 
on any part of its bosom. Beyond its farther 
shore was Monument Mountain, in a recum¬ 
bent position, stretching almost across the val¬ 
ley. Eustace Bright compared it to a huge, 
headless sphinx, wrapped in a Persian shawl; 
and, indeed, so rich and diversified was the 
autumnal foliage of its woods, that the simile 
of the shawl was by no means too high colored 
for the reality. In the lower ground, between 
Tanglewood and the Jake, the clumps of trees 
and borders of woodland were chiefly golden 
leaved or dusky brown, as having suffered more 
from frost than the foliage on the hillsides. 

Over all this scene there was a genial sun¬ 
shine, intermingled with a slight haze, which 
made it unspeakably soft and tender. O, what 
a day of Indian summer was it going to be! 
The children snatched their baskets, and set 
forth, with hop, skip, and jump, and all sorts 
of frisks and gambols ; while Cousin Eustace 
proved his fitness to preside over the party, by 
outdoing all their antics, and performing several 
new capers, which none of them could ever hope 
to imitate. Behind went a good old dog, whose 
46 


TANGLEWOOD PORCH 

name was Ben. He was one of the most re¬ 
spectable and kind hearted of quadrupeds, and 
probably felt it to be his duty not to trust the 
children away from their parents without some 
better guardian than this feather-brained Eus¬ 
tace Bright. 

47 


i 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


SHADOW BROOK 
Introductory to The Golden Touch 
' noon, our juvenile party assembled in a 



dell, through the depths of which ran 


-L a little brook. The dell was narrow, and 
its steep sides, from the margin of the stream 
upward, were thickly set with trees, chiefly wal¬ 
nuts and chestnuts, among which grew a few 
oaks and maples. In the summer-time, the 
shade of so many clustering branches, meeting 
and intermingling across the rivulet, was deep 
enough to produce a noontide twilight. Hence 
came the name of Shadow Brook. But now, 
ever since autumn had crept into this secluded 
place, all the dark verdure was changed to gold, 
so that it really kindled up the dell, instead of 
shading it. The bright yellow leaves, even had 
it been a cloudy day, would have seemed to 
keep the sunlight among them; and enough of 
them had fallen to strew all the bed and margin 
of the brook with sunlight too. Thus the shady 
nook, where summer had cooled herself, was 
now the sunniest spot anywhere to be found. 


SHADOW BROOK 


The little brook ran along over its pathway 
of gold, here pausing to form a pool, in which 
minnows were darting to and fro; and then it 
hurried onward at a swifter pace, as if in haste to 
reach the lake; and, forgetting to look whither 
it went, it tumbled over the root of a tree, which 
stretched quite across its current. You would 
have laughed to hear how noisily it babbled 
about this accident. And even after it had run 
onward, the brook still kept talking to itself, as 
if it were in a maze. It was wonder-smitten, I 
suppose, at finding its dark dell so illuminated, 
and at hearing the prattle and merriment of so 
many children. So it stole away as quickly as it 
could, and hid itself in the lake. 

In the dell of Shadow Brook, Eustace Bright 
and his little friends had eaten their dinner. 
They had brought plenty of good things from 
Tanglewood in their baskets, and had spread 
them out on the stumps of trees and on mossy 
trunks, and had feasted merrily, and made a 
very nice dinner indeed. After it was over, no¬ 
body felt like stirring. 

“We will rest ourselves here,” said several 
of the children, “ while Cousin Eustace tells us 
another of his pretty stories.” 

Cousin Eustace had a good right to be tired, 
as well as the children, for he had performed 
great feats on that memorable forenoon. Dan¬ 
delion, Clover, Cowslip, and Buttercup were 
49 


A WONDER BOOK 


almost persuaded that he had winged slippers, 
like those which the Nymphs gave Perseus; so 
often had the student shown himself at the tip¬ 
top of a nut-tree, when only a moment before 
he had been standing on the ground. And then, 
what showers of walnuts had he sent rattling 
down upon their heads, for their busy little 
hands to gather into the baskets! In short, he 
had been as active as a squirrel or a monkey, 
and now, flinging himself down on the yellow 
leaves, seemed inclined to take a little rest. 

But children have no mercy nor considera¬ 
tion for anybody’s weariness; and if you had 
but a single breath left, they would ask you to 
spend it in telling them a story. 

“ Cousin Eustace,” said Cowslip, cc that was 
a very nice story of the Gorgon’s Head. Do 
you think you could tell us another as good ? ” 

“ Yes, child,” said Eustace, pulling the brim 
of his cap over his eyes, as if preparing for a 
nap. “ I can tell you a dozen, as good or bet¬ 
ter, if I choose.” 

£c O Primrose and Periwinkle, do you hear 
what he says ? ” cried Cowslip, dancing with 
delight. ££ Cousin Eustace is going to tell us a 
dozen better stories than that about the Gor¬ 
gon’s Head! ” 

“ I did not promise you even one, you fool¬ 
ish little Cowslip ! ” said Eustace half pettishly. 
<£ However, I suppose you must have it. This 
50 


SHADOW BROOK 


is the consequence of having earned a reputa¬ 
tion ! I wish I were a great deal duller than I 
am, or that I had never shown half the bright 
qualities with which nature has endowed me; 
and then I might have my nap out, in peace and 
comfort! ” 

But Cousin Eustace, as I think I have hinted 
before, was as fond of telling his stories as the 
children of hearing them. His mind was in a 
free and happy state, and took delight in its own 
activity, and scarcely required any external im¬ 
pulse to set it at work. 

How different is this spontaneous play of the 
intellect from the trained diligence of maturer 
years, when toil has perhaps grown easy by long 
habit, and the day’s work may have become 
essential to the day’s comfort, although the rest 
of the matter has bubbled away! This remark, 
however, is not meant for the children to hear. 

Without further solicitation, Eustace Bright 
proceeded to tell the following really splendid 
story. It had come into his mind as he lay 
looking upward into the depths of a tree, and 
observing how the touch of Autumn had trans¬ 
muted every one of its green leaves into what 
resembled the purest gold. And this change, 
which we have all of us witnessed, is as wonder¬ 
ful as anything that Eustace told about in the 
story of Midas. 

5i 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


O NCE upon a time, there lived a very 
rich man, and a king besides, whose 
name was Midas ; and he had a little 
daughter, whom nobody but myself ever heard 
of, and whose name I either never knew, or 
have entirely forgotten. So, because I love odd 
names for little girls, I choose to call her Mary- 
gold. 

This King Midas was fonder of gold than of 
anything else in the world. He valued his 
royal crown chiefly because it was composed of 
that precious metal. If he loved anything bet¬ 
ter, or half so well, it was the one little maiden 
who played so merrily around her father’s foot¬ 
stool. But the more Midas loved his daughter, 
the more did he desire and seek for wealth. 
He thought, foolish man ! that the best thing 
he could possibly do for this dear child would 
be to bequeath her the immensest pile of yellow, 
glistening coin, that had ever been heaped to¬ 
gether since the world was made. Thus he 
gave all his thoughts and all his time to this one 
purpose. If ever he happened to gaze for an 
instant at the gold-tinted clouds of sunset, he 
wished that they were real gold, and that they 
52 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


could be squeezed safely into his strong box. 
When little Marygold ran to meet him, with a 
bunch of buttercups and dandelions, he used to 
say, “ Poh, poh, child ! If these flowers were 
as golden as they look, they would be worth 
the plucking! ” 

And yet, in his earlier days, before he was so 
entirely possessed of this insane desire for riches. 
King Midas had shown a great taste for flowers. 
He had planted a garden, in which grew the 
biggest and beautifullest and sweetest roses that 
any mortal ever saw or smelt. These roses 
were still growing in the garden, as large, as 
lovely, and as fragrant, as when Midas used to 
pass whole hours in gazing at them, and inhal¬ 
ing their perfume. But now, if he looked at 
them at all, it was only to calculate how much 
the garden would be worth if each of the innu¬ 
merable rose-petals were a thin plate of gold. 
And though he once was fond of music (in spite 
of an idle story about his ears, which were said 
to resemble those of an ass), the only music for 
poor Midas, now, was the chink of one coin 
against another. 

At length (as people always grow more and 
more foolish, unless they take care to grow wiser 
and wiser), Midas had got to be so exceedingly 
unreasonable, that he could scarcely bear to see 
or touch any object that was not gold. He 
made it his custom, therefore, to pass a large 
53 


A WONDER BOOK 


portion of every day in a dark and dreary apart¬ 
ment, under ground, at the basement of his pal¬ 
ace. It was here that he kept his wealth. To 
this dismal hole — for it was little better than 
a dungeon — Midas betook himself, whenever 
he wanted to be particularly happy. Here, after 
carefully locking the door, he would take a bag 
of gold coin, or a gold cup as big as a washbowl, 
or a heavy golden bar, or a peck-measure of 
gold-dust, and bring them from the obscure 
corners of the room into the one bright and 
narrow sunbeam that fell from the dungeon-like 
window. He valued the sunbeam for no other 
reason but that his treasure would not shine 
without its help. And then would he reckon 
over the coins in the bag; toss up the bar, and 
catch it as it came down ; sift the gold-dust 
through his fingers ; look at the funny image 
of his own face, as reflected in the burnished 
circumference of the cup ; and whisper to him¬ 
self, “ O Midas, rich King Midas, what a happy 
man art thou ! ” But it was laughable to see 
how the image of his face kept grinning at him, 
out of the polished surface of the cup. It 
seemed to be aware of his foolish behavior, and 
to have a naughty inclination to make fun of 
him. 

Midas called himself a happy man, but felt 
that he was not yet quite so happy as he might 
be. The very tiptop of enjoyment would never 
54 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


be reached, unless the whole world were to 
become his treasure-room, and be filled with 
yellow metal which should be all his own. 

Now, I need hardly remind such wise little 
people as you are, that in the old, old times 
when King Midas was alive, a great many things 
came to pass which we should consider wonder¬ 
ful if they were to happen in our own day and 
country. And, on the other hand, a great many 
things take place nowadays, which seem not 
only wonderful to us, but at which the people 
of old times would have stared their eyes out. 
On the whole, I regard our own times as the 
strangest of the two ; but, however that may be, 
I must go on with my story. 

Midas was enjoying himself in his treasure- 
room one day, as usual, when he perceived a 
shadow fall over the heaps of gold ; and, look¬ 
ing suddenly up, what should he behold but 
the figure of a stranger, standing in the bright 
and narrow sunbeam ! It was a young man, 
with a cheerful and ruddy face. Whether it 
was that the imagination of King Midas threw 
a yellow tinge over everything, or whatever the 
cause might be, he could not help fancying that 
the smile with which the stranger regarded him 
had a kind of golden radiance in it. Certainly, 
although his figure intercepted the sunshine, 
there was now a brighter gleam upon all the 
piled-up treasures than before. Even the re- 
55 


A WONDER BOOK 


motest corners had their share of it, and were 
lighted up, when the stranger smiled, as with 
tips of flame and sparkles of fire. 

As Midas knew that he had carefully turned 
the key in the lock, and that no mortal strength 
could possibly break into his treasure-room, he, 
of course, concluded that his visitor must be 
something more than mortal. It is no matter 
about telling you who he was. In those days, 
when the earth was comparatively a new affair, 
it was supposed to be often the resort of beings 
endowed with supernatural power, and who used 
to interest themselves in the joys and sorrows 
of men, women, and children, half playfully and 
half seriously. Midas had met such beings be¬ 
fore now, and was not sorry to meet one of them 
again. The stranger’s aspect, indeed, was so 
good-humored and kindly, if not beneficent, 
that it would have been unreasonable to suspect 
him of intending any mischief. It was far more 
probable that he came to do Midas a favor. 
And what could that favor be, unless to multi¬ 
ply his heaps of treasure ? 

The stranger gazed about the room ; and 
when his lustrous smile had glistened upon all 
the golden objects that were there, he turned 
again to Midas. 

“ You are a wealthy man, friend Midas ! ” 
he observed. “ I doubt whether any other four 
56 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


walls, on earth, contain so much gold as you 
have contrived to pile up in this room.” 

“ I have done pretty well, — pretty well,” 
answered Midas, in a discontented tone. “ But, 
after all, it is but a trifle, when you consider that 
it has taken me my whole life to get it together. 
If one could live a thousand years, he might 
have time to grow rich ! ” 

“ What ! ” exclaimed the stranger. “ Then 
you are not satisfied? ” 

Midas shook his head. 

“ And pray what would satisfy you ? ” asked 
the stranger. “ Merely for the curiosity of the 
thing, I should be glad to know.” 

Midas paused and meditated. He felt a pre¬ 
sentiment that this stranger, with such a golden 
lustre in his good-humored smile, had come 
hither with both the power and the purpose 
of gratifying his utmost wishes. Now, there¬ 
fore, was the fortunate moment, when he had 
but to speak, and obtain whatever possible, or 
seemingly impossible thing, it might come into 
his head to ask. So he thought, and thought, 
and thought, and heaped up one golden moun¬ 
tain upon another in his imagination, without 
being able to imagine them big enough. At 
last, a bright idea occurred to king Midas. It 
seemed really as bright as the glistening metal 
which he loved so much. 

57 


A WONDER BOOK 


Raising his head, he looked the lustrous 
stranger in the face. 

“ Well, Midas,” observed his visitor, “ I see 
that you have at length hit upon something that 
will satisfy you. Tell me your wish.” 

“ It is only this,” replied Midas. “ I am 
weary of collecting my treasures with so much 
trouble, and beholding the heap so diminutive, 
after I have done my best. I wish everything 
that I touch to be changed to gold! ” 

The stranger's smile grew so very broad, that 
it seemed to fill the room like an outburst of 
the sun, gleaming into a shadowy dell, where 
the yellow autumnal leaves — for so looked the 
lumps and particles of gold — lie strewn in the 
glow of light. 

“ The Golden Touch! ” exclaimed he. “ You 
certainly deserve credit, friend Midas, for strik¬ 
ing out so brilliant a conception. But are you 
quite sure that this will satisfy you ? ” 

“ How could it fail ? ” said Midas. 

“ And will you never regret the possession 
of it ? ” 

“ What could induce me ? ” asked Midas. 
<c I ask nothing else, to render me perfectly 
happy.” 

“ Be it as you wish, then,” replied the 
stranger, waving his hand in token of farewell. 
“ To-morrow, at sunrise, you will find yourself 
gifted with the Golden Touch.” 

58 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


The figure of the stranger then became ex¬ 
ceedingly bright, and Midas involuntarily closed 
his eyes. On opening them again, he beheld 
only one yellow sunbeam in the room, and, all 
around him, the glistening of the precious 
metal which he had spent his life in hoarding 
up. 

Whether Midas slept as usual that night, the 
story does not say. Asleep or awake, however, 
his mind was probably in the state of a child’s, 
to whom a beautiful new plaything has been 
promised in the morning. At any rate, day had 
hardly peeped over the hills, when King Midas 
was broad awake, and, stretching his arms out of 
bed, began to touch the objects that were within 
reach. He was anxious to prove whether the 
Golden Touch had really come, according to 
the stranger’s promise. So he laid his finger 
on a chair by the bedside, and on various other 
things, but was grievously disappointed to per¬ 
ceive that they remained of exactly the same 
substance as before. Indeed, he felt very much 
afraid that he had only dreamed about the lus¬ 
trous stranger, or else that the latter had been 
making game of him. And what a miserable 
affair would it be, if, after all his hopes, Midas 
must content himself with what little gold he 
could scrape together by ordinary means, in¬ 
stead of creating it by a touch ! 

All this while, it was only the gray of the 
59 


A WONDER BOOK 


morning, with but a streak of brightness along 
the edge of the sky, where Midas could not 
see it. He lay in a very disconsolate mood, 
regretting the downfall of his hopes, and kept 
growing sadder and sadder, until the earliest 
sunbeam shone through the window, and gilded 
the ceiling over his head. It seemed to Midas 
that this bright yellow sunbeam was reflected 
in rather a singular way on the white covering 
of the bed. Looking more closely, what was 
his astonishment and delight, when he found 
that this linen fabric had been transmuted to 
what seemed a woven texture of the purest and 
brightest gold ! The Golden Touch had come 
to him with the first sunbeam ! 

Midas started up, in a kind of joyful frenzy, 
and ran about the room, grasping at everything 
that happened to be in his way. He seized one 
of the bedposts, and it became immediately a 
fluted golden pillar. He pulled aside a window- 
curtain, in order to admit a clear spectacle of 
the wonders which he was performing ; and the 
tassel grew heavy in his hand — a mass of gold. 
He took up a book from the table. At his first 
touch, it assumed the appearance of such a 
splendidly bound and gilt-edged volume as one 
often meets with, nowadays; but, on running 
his fingers through the leaves, behold ! it was a 
bundle of thin golden plates, in which all the 
wisdom of the book had grown illegible. He 
60 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


hurriedly put on his clothes, and was enraptured 
to see himself in a magnificent suit of gold cloth, 
which retained its flexibility and softness, al¬ 
though it burdened him a little with its weight. 
He drew out his handkerchief, which little 
Marygold had hemmed for him. That was 
likewise gold, with the dear child’s neat and 
pretty stitches running all along the border, in 
gold thread ! 

Somehow or other, this last transformation 
did not quite please King Midas. He would 
rather that his little daughter’s handiwork 
should have remained just the same as when 
she climbed his knee and put it into his hand. 

But it was not worth while to vex himself 
about a trifle. Midas now took his spectacles 
from his pocket, and put them on his nose, in 
order that he might see more distinctly what he 
was about. In those days, spectacles for com¬ 
mon people had not been invented, but were 
already worn by kings; else how could Midas 
have had any ? To his great perplexity, how¬ 
ever, excellent as the glasses were, he discovered 
that he could not possibly see through them. 
But this was the most natural thing in the 
world ; for, on taking them*off, the transparent 
crystals turned out to be plates of yellow metal, 
and, of course, were worthless as spectacles, 
though valuable as gold. It struck Midas as 
rather inconvenient that, with all his wealth, he 
61 


A WONDER BOOK 


could never again be rich enough to own a pair 
of serviceable spectacles. 

“ It is no great matter, nevertheless,” said he 
to himself, very philosophically. “We cannot 
expect any great good, without its being accom¬ 
panied with some small inconvenience. The 
Golden Touch is worth the sacrifice of a pair 
of spectacles, at least, if not of one’s very eye¬ 
sight. My own eyes will serve for ordinary 
purposes, and little Marygold will soon be old 
enough to read to me.” 

Wise King Midas was so exalted by his good 
fortune, that the palace seemed not sufficiently 
spacious to contain him. He therefore went 
down stairs, and smiled, on observing that the 
balustrade of the staircase became a bar of bur¬ 
nished gold, as his hand passed over it in his 
descent. He lifted the doorlatch (it was brass 
only a moment ago, but golden when his fingers 
quitted it), and emerged into the garden. Here, 
as it happened, he found a great number of 
beautiful roses in full bloom, and others in all 
the stages of lovely bud and blossom. Very 
delicious was their fragrance in the morning 
breeze. Their delicate blush was one of the 
fairest sights in the world ; so gentle, so modest, 
and so full of sweet tranquillity did these roses 
seem to be. 

But Midas knew a way to make them far 
more precious, according to his way of thinking, 
62 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


than roses had ever been before. So he took 
great pains in going from bush to bush, and 
exercised his magic touch most indefatigably ; 
until every individual flower and bud, and even 
the worms at the heart of some of them, were 
changed to gold. By the time this good work 
was completed, King Midas was summoned to 
breakfast; and as the morning air had given 
him an excellent appetite, he made haste back 
to the palace. 

What was usually a king’s breakfast in the 
days of Midas, I really do not know, and can¬ 
not stop now to investigate. To the best of 
my belief, however, on this particular morning, 
the breakfast consisted of hot cakes, some nice 
little brook trout, roasted potatoes, fresh boiled 
eggs, and coffee, for King Midas himself, and 
a bowl of bread and milk for his daughter Mary- 
gold. At all events, this is a breakfast fit to 
set before a king; and, whether he had it or 
not, King Midas could not have had a better. 

Little Mary gold had not yet made her ap¬ 
pearance. Her father ordered her to be called, 
and, seating himself at table, awaited the child’s 
coming, in order to begin his own breakfast. 
To do Midas justice, he really loved his daugh¬ 
ter, and loved her so much the more this morn¬ 
ing, on account of the good fortune which had 
befallen him. It was not a great while before 
he heard her coming along the passageway cry- 
^3 


A WONDER BOOK 


ing bitterly. This circumstance surprised him, 
because Marygold was one of the cheerfullest 
little people whom you would see in a summer's 
day, and hardly shed a thimbleful of tears in a 
twelvemonth. When Midas heard her sobs, 
he determined to put little Marygold into better 
spirits, by an agreeable surprise; so, leaning 
across the table, he touched his daughter’s bowl 
(which was a China one, with pretty figures all 
around it), and transmuted it to gleaming gold. 

Meanwhile, Marygold slowly and disconso¬ 
lately opened the door, and showed herself with 
her apron at her eyes, still sobbing as if her 
heart would break. 

cc How now, my little lady! ” cried Midas. 
“ Pray what is the matter with you, this bright 
morning ? ” 

Marygold, without taking the apron from her 
eyes, held out her hand, in which was one of 
the-roses which Midas had so recently trans¬ 
muted. 

“ Beautiful !” exclaimed her father. “And 
what is there in this magnificent golden rose to 
make you cry ? ” 

“ Ah, dear father! ” answered the child, as 
well as her sobs would let her ; “ it is not beau¬ 
tiful, but the ugliest flower that ever grew! As 
soon as I was dressed I ran into the garden to 
gather some roses for you ; because I know you 
like them, and like them the better when gath- 
64 




THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


ered by your little daughter. But, oh dear, dear 
me ! What do you think has happened ? Such 
a misfortune! All the beautiful roses, that 
smelled so sweetly and had so many lovely 
blushes, are blighted and spoilt ! They are 
grown quite yellow, as you see this one, and 
have no longer any fragrance! What can have 
been the matter with them ? ” 

“ Poh, my dear little girl, — pray don't cry 
about it! ” said Midas, who was ashamed to 
confess that he himself had wrought the change 
which so greatly afflicted her. “ Sit down and 
eat your bread and milk ! You will find it easy 
enough to exchange a golden rose like that 
(which will last hundreds of years) for an ordi¬ 
nary one which would wither in a day." 

<c I don’t care for such roses as this ! ” cried 
Marygold, tossing it contemptuously away. “ It 
has no smell, and the hard petals prick my 
nose ! ” 

The child now sat down to table, but was so 
occupied with her grief for the blighted roses 
that she did not even notice the wonderful trans¬ 
mutation of her China bowl. Perhaps this was 
all the better; for Marygold was accustomed 
to take pleasure in looking at the queer figures, 
and strange trees and houses, that were painted 
on the circumference of the bowl; and these 
ornaments were now entirely lost in the yellow 
hue of the metal. 


65 


A WONDER BOOK 


Midas, meanwhile, had poured out a cup of 
coffee, and, as a matter of course, the coffee-pot, 
whatever metal it may have been when he took 
it up, was gold when he set it down. He 
thought to himself, that it was rather an extrava¬ 
gant style of splendor, in a king of his simple 
habits, to breakfast off a service of gold, and 
began to be puzzled with the difficulty of keep¬ 
ing his treasures safe. The cupboard and the 
kitchen would no longer be a secure place of 
deposit for articles so valuable as golden bowls 
and coffee-pots. 

Amid these thoughts he lifted a spoonful of 
coffee to his lips, and, sipping it, was astonished 
to perceive that, the instant his lips touched the 
liquid, it became molten gold, and, the next 
moment, hardened into a lump ! 

“ Ha ! ” exclaimed Midas, rather aghast. 

“ What is the matter, father ? ” asked little 
Mary gold, gazing at him, with the tears still 
standing in her eyes. 

“Nothing, child, nothing! ” said Midas. 
“ Eat your milk, before it gets quite cold.” 

He took one of the nice little trouts on his 
plate, and, by way of experiment, touched its 
tail with his finger. To his horror, it was im¬ 
mediately transmuted from an admirably fried 
brook-trout into a gold-fish, though not one of 
those gold-fishes which people often keep in 
glass globes as ornaments for the parlor. No; 

66 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


but it was really a metallic fish, and looked as 
if it had been very cunningly made by the nicest 
goldsmith in the world. Its little bones were 
now golden wires; its fins and tail were thin 
plates of gold ; and there were the marks of 
the fork in it, and all the delicate, frothy appear¬ 
ance of a nicely fried fish, exactly imitated in 
metal. A very pretty piece of work, as you 
may suppose; only King Midas, just at that 
moment, would much rather have had a real 
trout in his dish than this elaborate and valuable 
imitation of one. 

“ I don't quite see," thought he to himself, 
“ how I am to get any breakfast! ” 

He took one of the smoking-hot cakes, and 
had scarcely broken it, when, to his cruel mor¬ 
tification, though a moment before it had been 
of the whitest wheat, it assumed the yellow hue 
of Indian meal. To say the truth, if it had 
really been a hot Indian cake, Midas would have 
prized it a good deal more than he now did, when 
its solidity and increased weight made him too 
bitterly sensible that it was gold. Almost in 
despair, he helped himself to a boiled egg, which 
immediately underwent a change similar to those 
of the trout and the cake. The egg, indeed, 
might have been mistaken for one of those 
which the famous goose, in the story-book, was 
in the habit of laying; but King Midas was the 
67 


A WONDER BOOK 


only goose that had had anything to do with 
the matter. 

“ Well, this is a quandary ! ” thought he, 
leaning back in his chair, and looking quite en¬ 
viously at little Mary gold, who was now eat¬ 
ing her bread and milk with great satisfaction. 
cc Such a costly breakfast before me, and nothing 
that can be eaten ! ” 

Hoping that, by dint of great dispatch, he 
might avoid what he now felt to be a consider¬ 
able inconvenience, King Midas next snatched 
a hot potato, and attempted to cram it into his 
mouth, and swallow it in a hurry. But the 
Golden Touch was too nimble for him. He 
found his mouth full, not of mealy potato, but 
of solid metal, which so burnt his tongue that 
he roared aloud, and, jumping up from the table, 
began to dance and stamp about the room, both 
with pain and affright. 

“ Father, dear father! ” cried little Marygold, 
who was a very affectionate child, “ pray what 
is the matter ? Have you burnt your mouth ? ” 

cc Ah, dear child,” groaned Midas, dolefully, 
cc I don't know what is to become of your poor 
father ! ” 

And truly, my dear little folks, did you ever 
hear of such a pitiable case in all your lives ? 
Here was literally the richest breakfast that 
could be set before a king, and its very richness 
made it absolutely good for nothing. The poor- 
68 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


est laborer, sitting down to his crust of bread 
and cup of water, was far better off than King 
Midas, whose delicate food was really worth its 
weight in gold. And what was to be done ? 
Already, at breakfast, Midas was excessively 
hungry. Would he be less so by dinner-time ? 
And how ravenous would be his appetite for 
supper, which must undoubtedly consist of the 
same sort of indigestible dishes as those now be¬ 
fore him ! How many days, think you, would 
he survive a continuance of this rich fare ? 

These reflections so troubled wise King Mi¬ 
das, that he began to doubt whether, after all, 
riches are the one desirable thing in the world, 
or even the most desirable. But this was only 
a passing thought. So fascinated was Midas 
with the glitter of the yellow metal, that he 
would still have refused to give up the Golden 
Touch for so paltry a consideration as a break¬ 
fast. Just imagine what a price for one meal's 
victuals ! It would have been the same as pay¬ 
ing millions and millions of money (and as 
many millions more as would take forever to 
reckon up) for some fried trout, an egg, a po¬ 
tato, a hot cake, and a cup of coffee ! 

“ It would be quite too dear,” thought Mi¬ 
das. 

Nevertheless, so great was his hunger and the 
perplexity of his situation, that he again groaned 
aloud, and very grievously too. Our pretty 
69 


A WONDER BOOK 

Marygold could endure it no longer. She sat 
a moment, gazing at her father, and trying, with 
all the might of her little wits, to find out what 
was the matter with him. Then, with a sweet 
and sorrowful impulse to comfort him, she 
started from her chair, and, running to Midas, 
threw her arms affectionately about his knees. 
He bent down and kissed her. He felt that 
his little daughter’s love was worth a thousand 
times more than he had gained by the Golden 
Touch. 

“ My precious, precious Marygold ! ” cried 
he. 

But Marygold made no answer. 

Alas, what had he done ? How fatal was the 
gift which the stranger bestowed ! The mo¬ 
ment the lips of Midas touched Marygold’s 
forehead, a change had taken place. Her sweet, 
rosy face, so full of affection as it had been, 
assumed a glittering yellow color, with yellow 
tear-drops congealing on her cheeks. Her 
beautiful brown ringlets took the same tint. 
Her soft and tender little form grew hard and 
inflexible within her father’s encircling arms. 
O terrible misfortune ! The victim of his in¬ 
satiable desire for wealth, little Marygold was a 
human child no longer, but a golden statue ! 

Yes, there she was, with the questioning look 
of love, grief, and pity, hardened into her face. 
It was the prettiest and most woful sight that 
70 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


ever mortal saw. All the features and tokens 
of Marygold were there ; even the beloved lit¬ 
tle dimple remained in her golden chin. But, 
the more perfect was the resemblance, the greater 
was the father’s agony at beholding this golden 
image, which was all that was left him of a 
daughter. It had been a favorite phrase of 
Midas, whenever he felt particularly fond of the 
child, to say that she was worth her weight in 
gold. And now the phrase had become literally 
true. And now, at last, when it was too late, 
he felt how infinitely a warm and tender heart, 
that loved him, exceeded in value all the wealth 
that could be piled up betwixt the earth and 
sky ! 

It would be too sad a story, if I were to tell 
you how Midas, in the fulness of all his grati¬ 
fied desires, began to wring his hands and be¬ 
moan himself; and how he could neither bear 
to look at Marygold, nor yet to look away from 
her. Except when his eyes were fixed on the 
image, he could not possibly believe that she was 
changed to gold. But, stealing another glance, 
there was the precious little figure, with a yellow 
tear-drop on its yellow cheek, and a look so 
piteous and tender, that it seemed as if that very 
expression must needs soften the gold, and make 
it flesh again. This, however, could not be. 
So Midas had only to wring his hands, and to 
wish that he were the poorest man in the wide 
7i 


A WONDER BOOK 


world, if the loss of all his wealth might bring 
back the faintest rose-color to his dear child’s 
face. 

While he was in this tumult of despair, he 
suddenly beheld a stranger standing near the 
door. Midas bent down his head, without 
speaking; for he recognized the same figure 
which had appeared to him, the day before, in 
the treasure-room, and had bestowed on him 
this disastrous faculty of the Golden Touch. 
The stranger’s countenance still wore a smile, 
which seemed to shed a yellow lustre all about 
the room, and gleamed on little Marygold’s 
image, and on the other objects that had been 
transmuted by the touch of Midas. 

“ Well, friend Midas,” said the stranger, 
“pray how do you succeed with the Golden 
Touch ? ” 

Midas shook his head. 

“ I am very miserable,” said he. 

“ Very miserable, indeed ! ” exclaimed the 
stranger. “ And how happens that ? Have I 
not faithfully kept my promise with you ? Have 
you not everything that your heart desired ? ” 

“ Gold is not everything,” answered Midas. 
“ And I have lost all that my heart really cared 
for.” 

“ Ah ! So you have made a discovery, since 
yesterday ? ” observed the stranger. “ Let us 
see, then. Which of these two things do you 
72 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


think is really worth the most, — the gift of 
the Golden Touch, or one cup of clear cold 
water ? ” 

“ O blessed water ! ” exclaimed Midas. “ It 
will never moisten my parched throat again ! ” 
“The Golden Touch,” continued the stran¬ 
ger, “ or a crust of bread ? ” 

“A piece of bread,” answered Midas, “is 
worth all the gold on earth ! ” 

“ The Golden Touch,” asked the stranger, 
“or your own little Marygold, warm, soft, and 
loving as she was an hour ago ? ” 

“ O my child, my dear child ! ” cried poor 
Midas, wringing his hands. “ I would not have 
given that one small dimple in her chin for the 
power of changing this whole big earth into a 
solid lump of gold ! ” 

“You are wiser than you were, King Mi¬ 
das ! ” said the stranger, looking seriously at 
him. “ Your own heart, I perceive, has not 
been entirely changed from flesh to gold. Were 
it so, your case would indeed be desperate. But 
you appear to be still capable of understanding 
that the commonest things, such as lie within 
everybody’s grasp, are more valuable than the 
riches which so many mortals sigh and struggle 
after. Tell me, now, do you sincerely desire 
to rid yourself of this Golden Touch ? ” 

“ It is hateful to me ! ” replied Midas. 

A fly settled on his nose, but immediately 

73 


A WONDER BOOK 


fell to the floor ; for it, too, had become gold. 
Midas shuddered. 

“ Go, then,” said the stranger, “ and plunge 
into the river that glides past the bottom of 
your garden. Take likewise a vase of the same 
water, and sprinkle it over any object that you 
may desire to change back again from gold into 
its former substance. If you do this in earnest¬ 
ness and sincerity, it may possibly repair the 
mischief which your avarice has occasioned.” 

King Midas bowed low ; and when he lifted 
his head, the lustrous stranger had vanished. 

You will easily believe that Midas lost no 
time in snatching up a great earthen pitcher 
(but, alas me ! it was no longer earthen after 
he touched it), and hastening to the river-side. 
As he scampered along, and forced his way 
through the shrubbery, it was positively mar¬ 
vellous to see how the foliage turned yellow 
behind him, as if the autumn had been there, 
and nowhere else. On reaching the river’s 
brink, he plunged headlong in, without waiting 
so much as to pull off his shoes. 

“ Poof! poof! poof! ” snorted King Midas, 
as his head emerged out of the water. “ Well; 
this is really a refreshing bath, and I think 
it must have quite washed away the Golden 
Touch. And now for filling my pitcher ! ” 

As he dipped the pitcher into the water, it 
gladdened his very heart to see it change from 
74 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


gold into the same good, honest earthen vessel 
which it had been before he touched it. He 
was conscious, also, of a change within him¬ 
self. A cold, hard, and heavy weight seemed 
to have gone out of his bosom. No doubt, 
his heart had been gradually losing its human 
substance, and transmuting itself into insensible 
metal, but had now softened back again into 
flesh. Perceiving a violet, that grew on the 
bank of the river, Midas touched it with his 
finger, and was overjoyed to find that the deli¬ 
cate flower retained its purple hue, instead of 
undergoing a yellow blight. The curse of the 
Golden Touch had, therefore, really been re¬ 
moved from him. 

King Midas hastened back to the palace ; 
and, I suppose, the servants knew not what to 
make of it when they saw their royal master so 
carefully bringing home an earthen pitcher of 
water. But that water, which was to undo all 
the mischief that his folly had wrought, was 
more precious to Midas than an ocean of mol¬ 
ten gold could have been. The first thing he 
did, as you need hardly be told, was to sprinkle 
it by handfuls over the golden figure of little 
Mary gold. 

No sooner did it fall on her than you would 
have laughed to see how the rosy color came 
back to the dear child’s cheek ! and how she 
began to sneeze and sputter ! — and how aston- 
75 


A WONDER BOOK 


ished she was to find herself dripping wet, and 
her father still throwing more water over her! 

“ Pray do not, dear father ! ” cried she. cc See 
how you have wet my nice frock, which I put 
on only this morning ! ” 

For Marygold did not know that she had 
been a little golden statue; nor could she re¬ 
member anything that had happened since the 
moment when she ran with outstretched arms 
to comfort poor King Midas. 

Her father did not think it necessary to tell 
his beloved child how very foolish he had been, 
but contented himself with showing how much 
wiser he had now grown. For this purpose, 
he led little Marygold into the garden, where 
he sprinkled all the remainder of the water over 
the rosebushes, and with such good effect that 
above five thousand roses recovered their beau¬ 
tiful bloom. There were two circumstances, 
however, which, as long as he lived, used to 
put King Midas in mind of the Golden Touch. 
One was, that the sands of the river sparkled 
like gold; the other, that little Mary gold’s hair 
had now a golden tinge, which he had never ob¬ 
served in it before she had been transmuted by 
the effect of his kiss. This change of hue was 
really an improvement, and made Marygold’s 
hair richer than in her babyhood. 

When King Midas had grown quite an old 
man, and used to trot Marygold’s children on 
76 


THE GOLDEN TOUCH 


his knee, he was fond of telling them this mar¬ 
vellous story, pretty much as I have now told it 
to you. And then would he stroke their glossy 
ringlets, and tell them that their hair, likewise, 
had a rich shade of gold, which they had in¬ 
herited from their mother. 

“ And to tell you the truth, my precious little 
folks,” quoth King Midas, diligently trotting 
the children all the while, “ ever since that 
morning, I have hated the very sight of all other 
gold, save this ! ” 


SHADOW BROOK 


AFTER THE STORY 

W ELL, children,” inquired Eustace, 
who was very fond of eliciting a defi¬ 
nite opinion from his auditors, “ did 
you ever, in all your lives, listen to a better 
story than this of The Golden Touch ? ” 

“ Why, as to the story of King Midas,” said 
saucy Primrose, “ it was a famous one thou¬ 
sands of years before Mr. Eustace Bright came 
into the world, and will continue to be so as 
long after he quits it. But some people have 
what we may call The Leaden Touch, and make 
everything dull and heavy that they lay their 
fingers upon.” 

“ You are a smart child, Primrose, to be not 
yet in your teens,” said Eustace, taken rather 
aback by the piquancy of her criticism. “ But 
you well know, in your naughty little heart, that 
I have burnished the old gold of Midas all over 
anew, and have made it shine as it never shone 
before. And then that figure of Marygold ! 
Do you perceive no nice workmanship in that ? 
And how finely I have brought out and deep¬ 
ened the moral! What say you, Sweet Fern, 
78 


SHADOW BROOK 


Dandelion, Clover, Periwinkle? Would any of 
you, after hearing this story, be so foolish as to 
desire the faculty of changing things to gold ? ” 
“ I should like,” said Periwinkle, a girl of 
ten, “ to have the power of turning everything 
to gold with my right forefinger ; but, with my 
left forefinger, I should want the power of chan¬ 
ging it back again, if the first change did not 
please me. And I know what I would do, this 
very afternoon ! ” 

“ Pray tell me,” said Eustace. 

“ Why,” answered Periwinkle, “ I would 
touch every one of these golden leaves on the 
trees with my left forefinger, and make them all 
green again; so that we might have the sum¬ 
mer back at once, with no ugly winter in the 
mean time.” 

“ O Periwinkle ! ” cried Eustace Bright, 
“ there you are wrong, and would do a great 
deal of mischief. Were I Midas, I would make 
nothing else but just such golden days as these 
over and over again, all the year throughout. 
My best thoughts always come a little too late. 
Why did not I tell you how old King Midas 
came to America, and changed the dusky au¬ 
tumn, such as it is in other countries, into the 
burnished beauty which it here puts on ? He 
gilded the leaves of the great volume of Nature.” 

“ Cousin Eustace,” said Sweet Fern, a good 
little boy, who was always making particular in- 
79 


A WONDER BOOK 


quiries about the precise height of giants and 
the littleness of fairies, “ how big was Mary- 
gold, and how much did she weigh after she was 
turned to gold ? ” 

“ She was about as tall as you are,” replied 
Eustace, “ and, as gold is very heavy, she 
weighed at least two thousand pounds, and 
might have been coined into thirty or forty thou¬ 
sand gold dollars. I wish Primrose were worth 
half as much. Come, little people, let us clam¬ 
ber out of the dell, and look about us.” 

They did so. The sun was now an hour or 
two beyond its noontide mark, and filled the 
great hollow of the valley with its western radi¬ 
ance, so that it seemed to be brimming with 
mellow light, and to spill it over the surround¬ 
ing hillsides, like golden wine out of a bowl. 
It was such a day that you could not help say¬ 
ing of it, “ There never was such a day before! ” 
although yesterday was just such a day, and to¬ 
morrow will be just such another. Ah, but there 
are very few of them in a twelvemonth’s circle ! 
It is a remarkable peculiarity of these October 
days, that each of them seems to occupy a great 
deal of space, although the sun rises rather tar¬ 
dily at that season of the year, and goes to bed, 
as little children ought, at sober six o’clock, or 
even earlier. We cannot, therefore, call the days 
long; but they appear, somehow or other, to 
make up for their shortness by their breadth; 

80 


SHADOW BROOK 


and when the cool night comes, we are con¬ 
scious of having enjoyed a big armful of life 
since morning. 

“ Come, children, come ! ” cried Eustace 
Bright. “ More nuts, more nuts, more nuts ! 
Fill all your baskets; and, at Christmas time, 
I will crack them for you, and tell you beauti¬ 
ful stories ! ” 

So away they went; all of them in excellent 
spirits, except little Dandelion, who, I am sorry 
to tell you, had been sitting on a chestnut burr, 
and was stuck as full as a pincushion of its 
prickles. Dear me, how uncomfortably he 
must have felt! 


81 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM 

Introductory to The Paradise of Children 

T HE golden days of October passed 
away, as so many other Octobers have, 
and brown November likewise, and the 
greater part of chill December, too. At last came 
merry Christmas, and Eustace Bright along 
with it, making it all the merrier by his pre¬ 
sence. And, the day after his arrival from col¬ 
lege, there came a mighty snowstorm. Up to 
this time the winter had held back, and had 
given us a good many mild days, which were 
like smiles upon its wrinkled visage. The grass 
had kept itself green in sheltered places, such as 
the nooks of southern hill-slopes and along the 
lee of the stone fences. It was but a week or 
two ago, and since the beginning of the month, 
that the children had found a dandelion in 
bloom, on the margin of Shadow Brook, where 
it glides out of the dell. 

But no more green grass and dandelions now. 
This was such a snowstorm ! Twenty miles of 
it might have been visible at once, between the 
82 


TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM 

windows of Tanglewood and the dome of Ta- 
conic, had it been possible to see so far among 
the eddying drifts that whitened all the atmo¬ 
sphere. It seemed as if the hills were giants, 
and were flinging monstrous handfuls of snow 
at one another, in their enormous sport. So 
thick were the fluttering snowflakes, that even 
the trees, midway down the valley, were hidden 
by them the greater part of the time. Some¬ 
times, it is true, the little prisoners of Tangle¬ 
wood could discern a dim outline of Monument 
Mountain, and the smooth whiteness of the 
frozen lake at its base, and the black or gray 
tracts of woodland in the nearer landscape. But 
these were merely peeps through the tempest. 

Nevertheless, the children rejoiced greatly in 
the snowstorm. They had already made ac¬ 
quaintance with it, by tumbling heels over head 
into its highest drifts, and flinging snow at one 
another, as we have just fancied the Berkshire 
mountains to be doing. And now they had 
come back to their spacious play-room, which 
was as big as the great drawing-room, and was 
lumbered with all sorts of playthings, large and 
small. The biggest was a rocking-horse, that 
looked like a real pony ; and there was a whole 
family of wooden, waxen, plaster, and china 
dolls, besides rag babies ; and blocks enough to 
build Bunker Hill Monument, and nine-pins 
and balls, and humming-tops, and battledores 

83 


A WONDER BOOK 


and grace-sticks, and skipping-ropes, and more 
of such valuable property than I could tell of 
in a printed page. But the children liked the 
snowstorm better than them all. It suggested 
so many brisk enjoyments for to-morrow, and 
all the remainder of the winter. The sleigh- 
ride ; the slides down hill into the valley; the 
snow-images that were to be shaped out; the 
snow fortresses that were to be built; and the 
snowballing to be carried on ! 

So the little folks blessed the snowstorm, 
and were glad to see it come thicker and thicker, 
and watched hopefully the long drift that was 
piling itself up in the avenue, and was already 
higher than any of their heads. 

“ Why, we shall be blocked up till spring! ” 
cried they, with the hugest delight. “ What a 
pity that the house is too high to be quite cov¬ 
ered up ! The little red house, down yonder, 
will be buried up to its eaves.” 

“ You silly children, what do you want of 
more snow ? ” asked Eustace, who, tired of some 
novel that he was skimming through, had strolled 
into the play-room. <c It has done mischief 
enough already, by spoiling the only skating 
that I could hope for through the winter. We 
shall see nothing more of the lake till April; 
and this was to have been my first day upon it ! 
Don't you pity me, Primrose ? ” 

“ O, to be sure ! ” answered Primrose, laugh- 
84 


TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM 

ing. “ But, for your comfort, we will listen to 
another of your old stories, such as you told us 
under the porch, and down in the hollow, by 
Shadow Brook. Perhaps I shall like them bet¬ 
ter now, when there is nothing to do, than while 
there were nuts to be gathered, and beautiful 
weather to enjoy.” 

Hereupon, Periwinkle, Clover, Sweet Fern, 
and as many others of the little fraternity and 
cousinhood as were still at Tanglewood, gath¬ 
ered about Eustace, and earnestly besought him 
for a story. The student yawned, stretched 
himself, and then, to the vast admiration of the 
small people, skipped three times back and forth 
over the top of a chair, in order, as he explained 
to them, to set his wits in motion. 

“Well, well, children,” said he, after these 
preliminaries, “ since you insist, and Primrose 
has set her heart upon it, I will see what can be 
done for you. And, that you may know what 
happy days there were before snowstorms came 
into fashion, I will tell you a story of the oldest 
of all old times, when the world was as new as 
Sweet Fern's brand-new humming-top. There 
was then but one season in the year, and that 
was the delightful summer ; and but one age for 
mortals, and that was childhood.” 

“ I never heard of that before,” said Prim¬ 
rose. 

“ Of course you never did,” answered Eus- 
85 


A WONDER BOOK 


tace. “ It shall be a story of what nobody but 
myself ever dreamed of, — a Paradise of chil¬ 
dren, — and how, by the naughtiness of just 
such a little imp as Primrose here, it all came 
to nothing.” 

So Eustace Bright sat down in the chair which 
he had just been skipping over, took Cowslip 
upon his knee, ordered silence throughout the 
auditory, and began a story about a sad naughty 
child, whose name was Pandora, and about her 
playfellow Epimetheus. You may read it, word 
for word, in the pages that come next. 

86 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


L ONG, long ago, when this old world was 
in its tender infancy, there was a child, 
-<• named Epimetheus, who never had 
either father or mother; and, that he might 
not be lonely, another child, fatherless and mo¬ 
therless like himself, was sent from a far coun¬ 
try, to live with him, and be his playfellow and 
helpmate. Her name was Pandora. 

The first thing that Pandora saw, when she 
entered the cottage where Epimetheus dwelt, 
was a great box. And almost the first question 
which she put to him, after crossing the thresh¬ 
old, was this, — 

“ Epimetheus, what have you in that box ? ” 
“ My dear little Pandora,” answered Epime¬ 
theus, “ that is a secret, and you must be kind 
enough not to ask any questions about it. The 
box was left here to be kept safely, and I do 
not myself know what it contains.” 

“ But who gave it to you ? ” asked Pandora. 
“ And where did it come from ? ” 

“ That is a secret, too,” replied Epimetheus. 
c< How provoking ! ” exclaimed Pandora, 
pouting her lip. “ I wish the great ugly box 
were out of the way ! ” 

87 


A WONDER BOOK 


“ O come, don’t think of it any more,” cried 
Epimetheus. “ Let us run out of doors, and 
have some nice play, with the other chil¬ 
dren.” 

It is thousands of years since Epimetheus and 
Pandora were alive; and the world, nowadays, 
is a very different sort of thing from what it 
was in their time. Then, everybody was a child. 
There needed no fathers and mothers to take 
care of the children ; because there was no dan¬ 
ger, nor trouble of any kind, and no clothes to 
be mended, and there was always plenty to eat 
and drink. Whenever a child wanted his dinner, 
he found it growing on a tree ; and, if he looked 
at the tree in the morning, he could see the ex¬ 
panding blossom of that night’s supper ; or, at 
eventide, he saw the tender bud of to-morrow’s 
breakfast. It was a very pleasant life indeed. 
No labor to be done, no tasks to be studied; 
nothing but sports and dances, and sweet voices 
of children talking, or carolling like birds, or 
gushing out in merry laughter, throughout the 
livelong day. 

What was most wonderful of all, the children 
never quarrelled among themselves; neither 
had they any crying fits; nor, since time first 
began, had a single one of these little mortals 
ever gone apart into a corner and sulked. O, 
what a good time was that to be alive in ! The 
truth is, those ugly little winged monsters, called 
88 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


Troubles, which are now almost as numerous as 
mosquitoes, had never yet been seen on the 
earth. It is probable that the very greatest dis¬ 
quietude which a child had ever experienced was 
Pandora's vexation at not being able to discover 
the secret of the mysterious box. 

This was at first only the faint shadow of 
a Trouble; but every day it grew more and 
more substantial, until, before a great while, the 
cottage of Epimetheus and Pandora was less 
sunshiny than those of the other children. 

“ Whence can the box have come ? ” Pan¬ 
dora continually kept saying to herself and to 
Epimetheus. “ And what in the world can be 
inside of it ? ” 

“ Always talking about this box! ” said Epi¬ 
metheus, at last; for he had grown extremely 
tired of the subject. “ I wish, dear Pandora, you 
would try to talk of something else. Come, let 
us go and gather some ripe figs, and eat them 
under the trees, for our supper. And I know 
a vine that has the sweetest and juiciest grapes 
you ever tasted.” 

“ Always talking about grapes and figs ! ” 
cried Pandora pettishly. 

“ Well, then,” said Epimetheus, who was a 
very good-tempered child, like a multitude of 
children in those days, “let us run out and 
have a merry time with our playmates.” 

“ I am tired of merry times, and don't care if 
89 


A WONDER BOOK 


I never have any more ! ” answered our pettish 
little Pandora. “ And besides, I never do have 
any. This ugly box! I am so taken up with 
thinking about it all the time. I insist upon 
your telling me what is inside of it.” 

“ As I have already said, fifty times over, I 
do not know 1 ” replied Epimetheus, getting a 
little vexed. cc How, then, can I tell you what 
is inside ? ” 

“ You might open it,” said Pandora, looking 
sideways at Epimetheus, “ and then we could 
see for ourselves.” 

“ Pandora, what are you thinking of? ” ex¬ 
claimed Epimetheus. 

And his face expressed so much horror at the 
idea of looking into a box, which had been con¬ 
fided to him on the condition of his never 
opening it, that Pandora thought it best not to 
suggest it any more. Still, however, she could 
not help thinking and talking about the box. 

“ At least,” said she, c< you can tell me how 
it came here.” 

“ It was left at the door,” replied Epime¬ 
theus, “ just before you came, by a person who 
looked very smiling and intelligent, and who 
could hardly forbear laughing as he put it down. 
He was dressed in an odd kind of a cloak, and 
had on a cap that seemed to be made partly of 
feathers, so that it looked almost as if it had 
wings.” 


90 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 

“ What sort of a staff had he ? ” asked Pan¬ 
dora. 

“ O, the most curious staff you ever saw ! ” 
cried Epimetheus. “ It was like two serpents 
twisting around a stick, and was carved so nat¬ 
urally that I, at first, thought the serpents were 
alive. ,, 

“ I know him,” said Pandora thoughtfully. 
“ Nobody else has such a staff. It was Quick¬ 
silver; and he brought me hither, as well as the 
box. No doubt, he intended it for me ; and, 
most probably, it contains pretty dresses for me 
to wear, or toys for you and me to play with, 
or something very nice for us both to eat! ” 

“ Perhaps so,” answered Epimetheus, turning 
away. “ But until Quicksilver comes back and 
tells us so, we have neither of us any right to 
lift the lid of the box.” 

<c What a dull boy he is ! ” muttered Pan¬ 
dora as Epimetheus left the cottage. a I do 
wish he had a little more enterprise ! ” 

For the first time since her arrival, Epime¬ 
theus had gone out without asking Pandora to 
accompany him. He went to gather figs and 
grapes by himself, or to seek whatever amuse¬ 
ment he could find, in other society than his 
little playfellow's. He was tired to death of 
hearing about the box, and heartily wished that 
Quicksilver, or whatever was the messenger's 
name, had left it at some other child’s door, 
9i 


A WONDER BOOK 


where Pandora would never have set eyes on 
it. So perseveringly as she did babble about 
this one thing ! The box, the box, and nothing 
but the box! It seemed as if the box were 
bewitched, and as if the cottage were not big 
enough to hold it, without Pandora’s continu¬ 
ally stumbling over it, and making Epimetheus 
stumble over it likewise, and bruising all four 
of their shins. 

Well, it was really hard that poor Epime¬ 
theus should have a box in his ears from morn¬ 
ing till night; especially as the little people of 
the earth were so unaccustomed to vexations, 
in those happy days, that they knew not how 
to deal with them. Thus, a small vexation 
made as much disturbance then, as a far bigger 
one would in our own times. 

After Epimetheus was gone, Pandora stood 
gazing at the box. She had called it ugly, above 
a hundred times; but, in spite of all that she 
had said against it, it was positively a very hand¬ 
some article of furniture, and would have been 
quite an ornament to any room in which it 
should be placed. It was made of a beautiful 
kind of wood, with dark and rich veins spread¬ 
ing over its surface, which was so highly pol¬ 
ished that little Pandora could see her face in it. 
As the child had no other looking-glass, it is 
odd that she did not value the box, merely on 
this account. 


92 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


The edges and corners of the box were carved 
with most wonderful skill. Around the margin 
there were figures of graceful men and women, 
and the prettiest children ever seen, reclining or 
sporting amid a profusion of flowers and foliage; 
and these various objects were so exquisitely- 
represented, and were wrought together in such 
harmony, that flowers, foliage, and human be¬ 
ings seemed to combine into a wreath of min¬ 
gled beauty. But here and there, peeping forth 
from behind the carved foliage, Pandora once 
or twice fancied that she saw a face not so 
lovely, or something or other that was disagree¬ 
able, and which stole the beauty out of all the 
rest. Nevertheless, on looking more closely, 
and touching the spot with her finger, she could 
discover nothing of the kind. Some face, that 
was really beautiful, had been made to look ugly 
by her catching a sideway glimpse at it. 

The most beautiful face of all was done in 
what is called high relief, in the centre of the lid. 
There was nothing else, save the dark, smooth 
richness of the polished wood, and this one face 
in the centre, with a garland of flowers about its 
brow. Pandora had looked at this face a great 
many times, and imagined that the mouth could 
smile if it liked, or be grave when it chose, the 
same as any living mouth. The features, indeed, 
all wore a very lively and rather mischievous ex¬ 
pression, which looked almost as if it needs must 
93 


A WONDER BOOK 

burst out of the carved lips, and utter itself in 
words. 

Had the mouth spoken, it would probably 
have been something like this : — 

“ Do not be afraid, Pandora ! What harm can 
there be in opening the box ? Never mind that 
poor, simple Epimetheus ! You are wiser than 
he, and have ten times as much spirit. Open 
the box, and see if you do not find something 
very pretty! ” 

The box, I had almost forgotten to say, was 
fastened ; not by a lock, nor by any other such 
contrivance, but by a very intricate knot of gold 
cord. There appeared to be no end to this 
knot, and no beginning. Never was a knot 
so cunningly twisted, nor with so many ins 
and outs, which roguishly defied the skilfullest 
fingers to disentangle them. And yet, by the 
very difficulty that there was in it, Pandora was 
the more tempted to examine the knot, and 
just see how it was made. Two or three times 
already, she had stooped over the box, and 
taken the knot between her thumb and fore¬ 
finger, but without positively trying to undo 
it. 

“ I really believe,” said she to herself, “ that 
I begin to see how it was done. Nay, perhaps 
I could tie it up again, after undoing it. There 
would be no harm in that, surely. Even Epi¬ 
metheus would not blame me for that. I need 
94 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


not open the box, and should not, of course, 
without the foolish boy’s consent, even if the 
knot were untied.” 

It might have been better for Pandora if she 
had had a little work to do, or anything to em¬ 
ploy her mind upon, so as not to be so con¬ 
stantly thinking of this one subject. But children 
led so easy a life, before any Troubles came into 
the world, that they had really a great deal too 
much leisure. They could not be forever play¬ 
ing at hide and seek among the flower shrubs, 
or at blindman’s-buff with garlands over their 
eyes, or at whatever other games had been found 
out, while Mother Earth was in her babyhood. 
When life is all sport, toil is the real play. There 
was absolutely nothing to do. A little sweeping 
and dusting about the cottage, I suppose, and 
the gathering of fresh flowers (which were only 
too abundant everywhere), and arranging them 
in vases, — and poor little Pandora’s day’s work 
was over. And then, for the rest of the day, 
there was the box ! 

After all, I am not quite sure that the box 
was not a blessing to her in its way. It supplied 
her with such a variety of ideas to think of, and 
to talk about, whenever she had anybody to lis¬ 
ten ! When she was in good humor, she could 
admire the bright polish of its sides, and the rich 
border of beautiful faces and foliage that ran all 
around it. Or, if she chanced to be ill tempered, 
95 


A WONDER BOOK 


she could give it a push, or kick it with her 
naughty little foot. And many a kick did the 
box — (but it was a mischievous box, as we shall 
see, and deserved all it got) — many a kick did 
it receive. But, certain it is, if it had not been 
for the box, our active-minded little Pandora 
would not have known half so well how to spend 
her time as she now did. 

For it was really an endless employment to 
guess what was inside. What could it be, in¬ 
deed ? Just imagine, my little hearers, how busy 
your wits would be, if there were a great box in 
the house, which, as you might have reason to 
suppose, contained something new and pretty 
for your Christmas or New Year’s gifts. Do 
you think that you should be less curious than 
Pandora? If you were left alone with the box, 
might you not feel a little tempted to lift the lid ? 
But you would not do it. O, fie! No, no! 
Only, if you thought there were toys in it, it 
would be so very hard to let slip an opportunity 
of taking just one peep ! I know not whether 
Pandora expected any toys; for none had yet 
begun to be made, probably, in those days, when 
the world itself was one great plaything for the 
children that dwelt upon it. But Pandora was 
convinced that there was something very beau¬ 
tiful and valuable in the box; and therefore she 
felt just as anxious to take a peep as any of these 
little girls, here around me, would have felt. 

96 



THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


And possibly a little more so ; but of that I am 
not quite so certain. 

On this particular day, however, which we 
have so long been talking about, her curiosity 
grew so much greater than it usually was, that 
at last she approached the box. She was more 
than half determined to open it, if she could. 
Ah, naughty Pandora! 

First, however, she tried to lift it. It was 
heavy ; quite too heavy for the slender strength 
of a child, like Pandora. She raised one end 
of the box a few inches from the floor, and let 
it fall again, with a pretty loud thump. A mo¬ 
ment afterwards, she almost fancied that she 
heard something stir inside of the box. She ap¬ 
plied her ear as closely as possible, and listened. 
Positively, there did seem to be a kind of stifled 
murmur within! Or was it merely the singing 
in Pandora's ears? Or could it be the beating 
of her heart ? The child could not quite satisfy 
herself whether she had heard anything or no. 
But, at all events, her curiosity was stronger 
than ever. 

As she drew back her head, her eyes fell upon 
the knot of gold cord. 

“ It must have been a very ingenious person 
who tied this knot," said Pandora to herself. 
“ But I think I could untie it nevertheless. I 
am resolved, at least, to find the two ends of the 
cord." 


97 


A WONDER BOOK 


So she took the golden knot in her fingers, 
and pried into its intricacies as sharply as she 
could. Almost without intending it, or quite 
knowing what she was about, she was soon bus¬ 
ily engaged in attempting to undo it. Mean¬ 
while, the bright sunshine came through the 
open window; as did likewise the merry voices 
of the children, playing at a distance, and per¬ 
haps the voice of Epimetheus among them. 
Pandora stopped to listen. What a beautiful 
day it was ! Would it not be wiser, if she were 
to let the troublesome knot alone, and think no 
more about the box, but run and join her little 
playfellows, and be happy ? 

All this time, however, her fingers were half 
unconsciously busy with the knot; and happen¬ 
ing to glance at the flower-wreathed face on the 
lid of the enchanted box, she seemed to perceive 
it slyly grinning at her. 

“ That face looks very mischievous/’ thought 
Pandora. “ I wonder whether it smiles because 
I am doing wrong ! I have the greatest mind 
in the world to run away ! ” 

But just then, by the merest accident, she 
gave the knot a kind of a twist, which produced 
a wonderful result. The gold cord untwined 
itself, as if by magic, and left the box without a 
fastening. 

“ This is the strangest thing I ever knew! ” 
98 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


said Pandora. “ What will Epimetheus say ? 
And how can I possibly tie it up again ? ” 

She made one or two attempts to restore the 
knot, but soon found it quite beyond her skill. 
It had disentangled itself so suddenly that she 
could not in the least remember how the strings 
had been doubled into one another; and when 
she tried to recollect the shape and appearance 
of the knot, it seemed to have gone entirely out 
of her mind. Nothing was to be done, there¬ 
fore, but to let the box remain as it was until 
Epimetheus should come in. 

“ But,” said Pandora, “when he finds the knot 
untied, he will know that I have done it. How 
shall I make him believe that I have not looked 
into the box ? ” 

And then the thought came into her naughty 
little heart, that, since she would be suspected 
of having looked into the box, she might just 
as well do so at once. O, very naughty and 
very foolish Pandora! You should have thought 
only of doing what was right, and of leaving 
undone what was wrong, and not of what your 
playfellow Epimetheus would have said or be¬ 
lieved, — and so perhaps she might, if the en¬ 
chanted face on the lid of the box had not 
looked so bewitchingly persuasive at her, and 
if she had not seemed to hear, more distinctly 
than before, the murmur of small voices within. 
She could not tell whether it was fancy or no; 

99 


Lore. 


A WONDER BOOK 


but there was quite a little tumult of whispers 
in her ear, — or else it was her curiosity that 
whispered, — 

“ Let us out, dear Pandora, — pray let us out! 
We will be such nice pretty playfellows for you ! 
Only let us out! ” 

“ What can it be ? ” thought Pandora. “ Is 
there something alive in the box? Well! — 
yes! — I am resolved to take just one peep! 
Only one peep; and then the lid shall be shut 
down as safely as ever ! There cannot possibly 
be any harm in just one little peep ! ” 

But it is now time for us to see what Epi- 
metheus was doing. 

This was the first time, since his little play¬ 
mate had come to dwell with him, that he had 
attempted to enjoy any pleasure in which she did 
not partake. But nothing went right; nor was 
he nearly so happy as on other days. He could 
not find a sweet grape or a ripe fig (if Epi- 
metheus had a fault, it was a little too much 
fondness for figs); or, if ripe at all, they were 
over-ripe, and so sweet as to be cloying. There 
was no mirth in his heart, such as usually made 
his voice gush out, of its own accord, and swell 
the merriment of his companions. In short, he 
grew so uneasy and discontented, that the other 
children could not imagine what was the matter 
with Epimetheus. Neither did he himself know 
what ailed him, any better than they did. For 
ioo 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


you must recollect that, at the time we are speak¬ 
ing of, it was everybody’s nature, and constant 
habit, to be happy. The world had not yet 
learned to be otherwise. Not a single soul or 
body, since these children were first sent to enjoy 
themselves on the beautiful earth, had ever been 
sick or out of sorts. 

At length, discovering that, somehow or 
other, he put a stop to all the play, Epimetheus 
judged it best to go back to Pandora, who was 
in a humor better suited to his own. But, with 
a hope of giving her pleasure, he gathered some 
flowers, and made them into a wreath, which 
he meant to put upon her head. The flowers 
were very lovely, — roses, and lilies, and orange 
blossoms, and a great many more, which left a 
trail of fragrance behind, as Epimetheus carried 
them along; and the wreath was put together 
with as much skill as could reasonably be ex¬ 
pected of a boy. The fingers of little girls, it 
has always appeared to me, are the fittest to 
twine flower wreaths; but boys could do it, in 
those days rather better than they can now. 

And here I must mention that a great black 
cloud had been gathering in the sky, for some 
time past, although it had not yet overspread 
the sun. But, just as Epimetheus reached the 
cottage door, this cloud began to intercept the 
sunshine, and thus to make a sudden and sad 
obscurity. 

IOI 


t 


A WONDER BOOK 


He entered softly ; for he meant, if possible, 
to steal behind Pandora, and fling the wreath 
of flowers over her head, before she should be 
aware of his approach. But, as it happened, 
there was no need of his treading so very lightly. 
He might have trod as heavily as he pleased, — 
as heavily as a grown man, — as heavily, I was 
going to say, as an elephant, — without much 
probability of Pandora's hearing his footsteps. 
She was too intent upon her purpose. At the 
moment of his entering the cottage, the naughty 
child had put her hand to the lid, and was on 
the point of opening the mysterious box. Epi- 
metheus beheld her. If he had cried out. Pan¬ 
dora would probably have withdrawn her hand, 
and the fatal mystery of the box might never 
have been known. 

But Epimetheus himself, although he said 
very little about it, had his own share of curiosity 
to know what was inside. Perceiving that Pan¬ 
dora was resolved to find out the secret, he de¬ 
termined that his playfellow should not be the 
only wise person in the cottage. And if there 
were anything pretty or valuable in the box, he 
meant to take half of it to himself. Thus, after 
all his sage speeches to Pandora about restrain¬ 
ing her curiosity, Epimetheus turned out to be 
quite as foolish, and nearly as much in fault, as 
she. So, whenever we blame Pandora for what 
102 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


happened, we must not forget to shake our heads 
at Epimetheus likewise. 

As Pandora raised the lid, the cottage grew 
very dark and dismal; for the black cloud had 
now swept quite over the sun, and seemed to 
have buried it alive. There had, for a little 
while past, been a low growling and muttering, 
which all at once broke into a heavy peal of 
thunder. But Pandora, heeding nothing of all 
this, lifted the lid nearly upright, and looked 
inside. It seemed as if a sudden swarm of 
winged creatures brushed past her, taking flight 
out of the box, while, at the same instant, she 
heard the voice of Epimetheus, with a lament¬ 
able tone, as if he were in pain. 

“ O, I am stung ! ” cried he. “ I am stung! 
Naughty Pandora! why have you opened this 
wicked box ? ” 

Pandora let fall the lid, and, starting up, 
looked about her, to see what had befallen Epi¬ 
metheus. The thunder-cloud had so darkened 
the room that she could not very clearly discern 
what was in it. But she heard a disagreeable 
buzzing, as if a great many huge flies, or gigan¬ 
tic mosquitoes, or those insects which we call 
dorbugs and pinching-dogs, were darting about. 
And, as her eyes grew more accustomed to the 
imperfect light, she saw a crowd of ugly little 
shapes, with bats’ wings, looking abominably 
103 


f 




A WONDER BOOK 


spiteful, and armed with terribly long stings in 
their tails. It was one of these that had stung 
Epimetheus. Nor was it a great while before 
Pandora herself began to scream, in no less pain 
and affright than her playfellow, and making a 
vast deal more hubbub about it. An odious 
little monster had settled on her forehead, and 
would have stung her I know not how deeply, 
if Epimetheus had not run and brushed it away. 

Now, if you wish to know what these ugly 
things might be, which had made their escape 
out of the box, I must tell you that they were 
the whole family of earthly Troubles. There 
were evil Passions ; there were a great many 
species of Cares; there were more than a hun¬ 
dred and fifty Sorrows ; there were Diseases, in 
a vast number of miserable and painful shapes ; 
there were more kinds of Naughtiness than it 
would be of any use to talk about. In short, 
everything that has since afflicted the souls and 
bodies of mankind had been shut up in the 
mysterious box, and given to Epimetheus and 
Pandora to be kept safely, in order that the 
happy children of the world might never be 
molested by them. Had they been faithful to 
their trust, all would have gone well. No grown 
person would ever have been sad, nor any child 
have had cause to shed a single tear, from that 
hour until this moment. 

But — and you may see by this how a wrong 
104 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


act of any one mortal is a calamity to the whole 
world — by Pandora’s lifting the lid of that mis¬ 
erable box, and by the fault of Epimetheus, too, 
in not preventing her, these Troubles have ob¬ 
tained a foothold among us, and do not seem 
very likely to be driven away in a hurry. For 
it was impossible, as you will easily guess, that 
the two children should keep the ugly swarm in 
their own little cottage. On the contrary, the 
first thing that they did was to fling open the 
doors and windows, in hopes of getting rid of 
them; and, sure enough, away flew the winged 
Troubles all abroad, and so pestered and tor¬ 
mented the small people everywhere about, that 
none of them so much as smiled for many days 
afterwards. And, what was very singular, all the 
flowers and dewy blossoms on earth, not one of 
which had hitherto faded, now began to droop 
and shed their leaves, after a day or two. The 
children, moreover, who before seemed immortal 
in their childhood, now grew older day by day, 
and came soon to be youths and maidens, and 
men and women by and by, and aged people, 
before they dreamed of such a thing. 

Meanwhile the naughty Pandora, and hardly 
less naughty Epimetheus, remained in their cot¬ 
tage. Both of them had been grievously stung, 
and were in a good deal of pain, which seemed 
the more intolerable to them because it was the 
very first pain that had ever been felt since the 
105 


A WONDER BOOK 


world began. Of course, they were entirely un¬ 
accustomed to it, and could have no idea what 
it meant. Besides all this, they were in exceed¬ 
ingly bad humor, both with themselves and with 
one another. In order to indulge it to the ut¬ 
most, Epimetheus sat down sullenly in a corner 
with his back towards Pandora ; while Pandora 
flung herself upon the floor and rested her head 
on the fatal and abominable box. She was cry¬ 
ing bitterly, and sobbing as if her heart would 
break. 

Suddenly there was a gentle little tap on the 
inside of the lid. 

“ What can that be ? ” cried Pandora, lifting 
her head. 

But either Epimetheus had not heard the tap, 
or was too much out of humor to notice it. At 
any rate, he made no answer. 

“ You are very unkind/’ said Pandora, sob¬ 
bing anew, “ not to speak to me! ” 

Again the tap ! It sounded like the tiny 
knuckles of a fairy’s hand, knocking lightly and 
playfully on the inside of the box. 

“ Who are you ? ” asked Pandora, with a 
little of her former curiosity. “ Who are you, 
inside of this naughty box ? ” 

A sweet little voice spoke from within, — 

“ Only lift the lid, and you shall see.” 

<c No, no,” answered Pandora, again beginning 
to sob, “ I have had enough of lifting the lid ! 

106 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


You are inside of the box, naughty creature, and 
there you shall stay ! There are plenty of your 
ugly brothers and sisters already flying about 
the world. You need never think that I shall be 
so foolish as to let you out! " 

She looked towards Epimetheus, as she 
spoke, perhaps expecting that he would com¬ 
mend her for her wisdom. But the sullen boy 
only muttered that she was wise a little too late. 

“ Ah,” said the sweet little voice again, “you 
had much better let me out. I am not like those 
naughty creatures that have stings in their tails. 
They are no brothers and sisters of mine, as you 
would see at once, if you were only to get a 
glimpse of me. Come, come, my pretty Pan¬ 
dora ! I am sure you will let me out! " 

And, indeed, there was a kind of cheerful 
witchery in the tone, that made it almost impos¬ 
sible to refuse anything which this little voice 
asked. Pandora's heart had insensibly grown 
lighter, at every word that came from within the 
box. Epimetheus, too, though still in the cor¬ 
ner, had turned half round, and seemed to be 
in rather better spirits than before. 

“ My dear Epimetheus," cried Pandora, 
“ have you heard this little voice ? ” 

“ Yes, to be sure I have," answered he, but 
in no very good humor as yet. “ And what of 
it?" 

“ Shall I lift the lid again ?" asked Pandora. 

107 


A WONDER BOOK 


c< Just as you please,” said Epimetheus. 
“ You have done so much mischief already, that 
perhaps you may as well do a little more. One 
other Trouble, in such a swarm as you have set 
adrift about the world, can make no very great 
difference.” 

“ You might speak a little more kindly ! ” 
murmured Pandora, wiping her eyes. 

“ Ah, naughty boy! ” cried the little voice 
within the box, in an arch and laughing tone. 
“ He knows he is longing to see me. Come, 
my dear Pandora, lift up the lid. I am in a 
great hurry to comfort you. Only let me have 
some fresh air, and you shall soon see that mat¬ 
ters are not quite so dismal as you think them ! ” 
“ Epimetheus,” exclaimed Pandora, <c come 
what may, I am resolved to open the box! ” 

“ And, as the lid seems very heavy,” cried 
Epimetheus, running across the room, “ I will 
help you! ” 

So, with one consent, the two children again 
lifted the lid. Out flew a sunny and smiling 
little personage, and hovered about the room, 
throwing a light wherever she went. Have you 
never made the sunshine dance into dark cor¬ 
ners, by reflecting it from a bit of looking-glass ? 
Well, so looked the winged cheerfulness of this 
fairy-like stranger, amid the gloom of the cot¬ 
tage. She flew to Epimetheus, and laid the 
least touch of her finger on the inflamed spot 
108 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 

where the Trouble had stung him, and imme¬ 
diately the anguish of it was gone. Then she 
kissed Pandora on the forehead, and her hurt 
was cured likewise. 

After performing these good offices, the bright 
stranger fluttered sportively over the children’s 
heads, and looked so sweetly at them, that they 
both began to think it not so very much amiss 
to have opened the box, since otherwise their 
cheery guest must have been kept a prisoner 
among those naughty imps with stings in their 
tails. 

“ Pray, who are you, beautiful creature ? ” 
inquired Pandora. 

“ I am to be called Hope ! ” answered the 
sunshiny figure. “ And because I am such a 
cheery little body, I was packed into the box, 
to make amends to the human race for that 
swarm of ugly Troubles, which was destined to 
be let loose among them. Never fear ! we shall 
do pretty well in spite of them all.” 

“ Your wings are colored like the rainbow! ” 
exclaimed Pandora. “ How very beautiful! ” 

“ Yes, they are like the rainbow,” said Hope, 
cc because, glad as my nature is, I am partly 
made of tears as well as smiles.” 

“ And will you stay with us,” asked Epime- 
theus, “ forever and ever ? ” 

“ As long as you need me,” said Hope, with 
her pleasant smile, — “ and that will be as long 
109 


A WONDER BOOK 


as you live in the world, — I promise never to 
desert you. There may come times and seasons, 
now and then, when you will think that I have 
utterly vanished. But again, and again, and 
again, when perhaps you least dream of it, you 
shall see the glimmer of my wings on the ceiling 
of your cottage. Yes, my dear children, and I 
know something very good and beautiful that 
is to be given you hereafter! ” 

“ O, tell us, they exclaimed, — “ tell us what 
it is ! ” 

“ Do not ask me,” replied Hope, putting 
her finger on her rosy mouth. “ But do not 
despair, even if it should never happen while 
you live on this earth. Trust in my promise, 
for it is true.” 

“ We do trust you ! ” cried Epimetheus and 
Pandora, both in one breath. 

And so they did; and not only they, but so has 
everybody trusted Hope, that has since been 
alive. And to tell you the truth, I cannot help 
being glad — (though, to be sure, it was an un¬ 
commonly naughty thing for her to do) — but 
I cannot help being glad that our foolish Pan¬ 
dora peeped into the box. No doubt—no 
doubt — the Troubles are still flying about the 
world, and have increased in multitude, rather 
than lessened, and are a very ugly set of imps, 
and carry most venomous stings in their tails. I 
have felt them already, and expect to feel them 
no 


THE PARADISE OF CHILDREN 


more, as I grow older. But then that lovely 
and lightsome little figure of Hope ! What in 
the world could we do without her ? Hope 
spiritualizes the earth ; Hope makes it always 
new; and, even in the earth’s best and brightest 
aspect, Hope shows it to be only the shadow 
of an infinite bliss hereafter ! 


TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM 


AFTER THE STORY 

P RIMROSE,” asked Eustace, pinching 
her ear, “ how do you like my little Pan¬ 
dora ? Don’t you think her the exact 
picture of yourself? But you would not have 
hesitated half so long about opening the box.” 

“ Then I should have been well punished for 
my naughtiness,” retorted Primrose smartly; 
“ for the first thing to pop out-, after the lid 
was lifted, would have been Mr. Eustace Bright, 
in the shape of a Trouble.” 

“ Cousin Eustace,” said Sweet Fern, “did 
the box hold all the trouble that has ever come 
into the world ? ” 

“ Every mite of it ! ” answered Eustace. 
“ This very snowstorm, which has spoiled my 
skating, was packed up there.” 

“ And how big was the box ? ” asked Sweet 
Fern. 

“ Why, perhaps three feet long,” said Eus¬ 
tace, “ two feet wide, and two feet and a half 
high.” 

“ Ah,” said the child, “ you are making fun 
of me. Cousin Eustace ! I know there is not 

112 


TANGLEWOOD PLAY-ROOM 


trouble enough in the world to fill such a great 
box as that. As for the snowstorm, it is no 
trouble at all, but a pleasure ; so it could not 
have been in the box.” 

“ Hear the child !” cried Primrose, with an 
air of superiority. “ How little he knows about 
the troubles of this world ! Poor fellow ! He 
will be wiser when he has seen as much of life 
as I have.” 

So saying, she began to skip the rope. 

Meantime, the day was drawing towards its 
close. Out of doors the scene certainly looked 
dreary. There was a gray drift, far and wide, 
through the gathering twilight; the earth was 
as pathless as the air ; and the bank of snow 
over the steps of the porch proved that nobody 
had entered or gone out for a good many hours 
past. Had there been only one child at the 
window of Tanglewood, gazing at this wintry 
prospect, it would perhaps have made him sad. 
But half a dozen children together, though they 
cannot quite turn the world into a paradise, may 
defy old Winter and all his storms to put them 
out of spirits. Eustace Bright, moreover, on 
the spur of the moment, invented several new 
kinds of play, which kept them all in a roar of 
merriment till bedtime, and served for the next 
stormy day besides. 

n 3 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


TANGLEWOOD FIRESIDE 

Introductory to The Three Golden Apples 

T HE snowstorm lasted another day; 

but what became of it afterwards, I 
cannot possibly imagine. At any rate, 
it entirely cleared away during the night; and 
when the sun arose the next morning, it shone 
brightly down on as bleak a tract of hill coun¬ 
try, here in Berkshire, as could be seen any¬ 
where in the world. The frostwork had so 
covered the window-panes that it was hardly 
possible to get a glimpse at the scenery outside. 
But, while waiting for breakfast, the small popu¬ 
lace of Tanglewood had scratched peep-holes 
with their finger-nails, and saw with vast delight 
that — unless it were one or two bare patches 
on a precipitous hillside, or the gray effect of 
the snow, intermingled with the black pine for¬ 
est— all nature was as white as a sheet. How 
exceedingly pleasant! And, to make it all the 
better, it was cold enough to nip one’s nose 
short off! If people have but life enough in 
them to bear it, there is nothing that so raises 
114 


TANGLEWOOD FIRESIDE 


the spirits, and makes the blood ripple and dance 
so nimbly, like a brook down the slope of a 
hill, as a bright, hard frost. 

No sooner was breakfast over, than the whole 
party, well muffled in furs and woollens, floun¬ 
dered forth into the midst of the snow. Well, 
what a day of frosty sport was this ! They 
slid down hill into the valley, a hundred times, 
nobody knows how far ; and to make it all 
the merrier, upsetting their sledges, and tum¬ 
bling head over heels, quite as often as they 
came safely to the bottom. And once, Eustace 
Bright took Periwinkle, Sweet Fern, and Squash- 
Blossom on the sledge with him, by way of in¬ 
suring a safe passage ; and down they went, full 
speed. But behold, halfway down, the sledge 
hit against a hidden stump, and flung all four 
of its passengers into a heap; and, on gather¬ 
ing themselves up, there was no little Squash- 
Blossom to be found ! Why, what could have 
become of the child ? And while they were 
wondering and staring about, up started Squash- 
Blossom out of a snow bank, with the reddest 
face you ever saw, and looking as if a large 
scarlet flower had suddenly sprouted up in mid¬ 
winter. Then there was a great laugh. 

When they had grown tired of sliding down 
hill, Eustace set the children to digging a cave 
in the biggest snowdrift that they could find. 
Unluckily, just as it was completed, and the 
ii5 


A WONDER BOOK 


party had squeezed themselves into the hollow, 
down came the roof upon their heads, and 
buried every soul of them alive ! The next 
moment, up popped all their little heads out of 
the ruins, and the tall student’s head in the 
midst of them, looking hoary and venerable 
with the snow dust that had got amongst his 
brown curls. And then, to punish Cousin 
Eustace for advising them to dig such a tumble- 
down cavern, the children attacked him in a 
body, and so bepelted him with snowballs that 
he was fain to take to his heels. 

So he ran away and went into the woods, and 
thence to the margin of Shadow Brook, where 
he could hear the streamlet grumbling along, 
under great overhanging banks of snow and ice, 
which would scarcely let it see the light of day. 
There were adamantine icicles glittering around 
all its little cascades. Thence he strolled to the 
shore of the lake, and beheld a white, untrodden 
plain before him, stretching from his own feet 
to the foot of Monument Mountain. And, it 
being now almost sunset, Eustace thought that 
he had never beheld anything so fresh and 
beautiful as the scene. He was glad that the 
children were not with him ; for their lively 
spirits and tumble-about activity would quite 
have chased away his higher and graver mood, 
so that he would merely have been merry (as 
he had already been, the whole day long), and 
116 


TANGLEWOOD FIRESIDE 


would not have known the loveliness of the 
winter sunset among the hills. 

When the sun was fairly down, our friend 
Eustace went home to eat his supper. After 
the meal was over, he betook himself to the 
study, with a purpose, I rather imagine, to write 
an ode, or two or three sonnets, or verses of 
some kind or other, in praise of the purple and 
golden clouds which he had seen around the 
setting sun. But, before he had hammered out 
the very first rhyme, the door opened, and Prim¬ 
rose and Periwinkle made their appearance. 

“ Go away, children ! I can’t be troubled 
with you now ! ” cried the student, looking over 
his shoulder, with the pen between his fingers. 
“ What in the world do you want here ? I 
thought you were all in bed ! ” 

“ Hear him, Periwinkle, trying to talk like a 
grown man ! ” said Primrose. “ And he seems 
to forget that I am now thirteen years old, and 
may sit up almost as late as I please. But, 
Cousin Eustace, you must put off your airs, and 
come with us to the drawing-room. The chil¬ 
dren have talked so much about your stories, 
that my father wishes to hear one of them, in 
order to judge whether they are likely to do 
any mischief.” 

“ Poh, poh, Primrose ! ” exclaimed the stu¬ 
dent, rather vexed. “ I don’t believe I can tell 
one of my stories in the presence of grown peo- 
JI 7 


A WONDER BOOK 


pie. Besides, your father is a classical scholar; 
not that I am much afraid of his scholarship, 
neither, for I doubt not it is as rusty as an old 
case-knife by this time. But then he will be 
sure to quarrel with the admirable nonsense that 
I put into these stories, out of my own head, 
and which makes the great charm of the matter 
for children like yourself. No man of fifty, 
who has read the classical myths in his youth, 
can possibly understand my merit as a rein¬ 
ventor and improver of them.” 

“ All this may be very true,” said Primrose, 
“ but come you must! My father will not 
open his book, nor will mamma open the piano, 
till you have given us some of your nonsense, 
as you very correctly call it. So be a good boy, 
and come along.” 

Whatever he might pretend, the student was 
rather glad than otherwise, on second thoughts, 
to catch at the opportunity of proving to Mr. 
Pringle what an excellent faculty he had in 
modernizing the myths of ancient times. Until 
twenty years of age a young man may, indeed, 
be rather bashful about showing his poetry and 
his prose ; but, for all that, he is pretty apt to 
think that these very productions would place 
him at the tiptop of literature, if once they could 
be known. Accordingly, without much more 
resistance, Eustace suffered Primrose and Peri¬ 
winkle to drag him into the drawing-room. 

118 


TANGLEWOOD FIRESIDE 


It was a large, handsome apartment, with a 
semicircular window at one end, in the recess 
of which stood a marble copy of Greenough’s 
Angel and Child. On one side of the fireplace 
there were many shelves of books, gravely but 
richly bound. The white light of the astral- 
lamp, and the red glow of the bright coal-fire, 
made the room brilliant and cheerful; and be¬ 
fore the fire, in a deep armchair, sat Mr. Prin¬ 
gle, looking just fit to be seated in such a chair, 
and in such a room. He was a tall and quite 
a handsome gentleman, with a bald brow; and 
was always so nicely dressed, that even Eustace 
Bright never liked to enter his presence without 
at least pausing at the threshold to settle his 
shirt-collar. But now, as Primrose had hold of 
one of his hands, and Periwinkle of the other, 
he was forced to make his appearance with a 
rough and tumble sort of look, as if he had 
been rolling all day in a snow bank. And so 
he had. 

Mr. Pringle turned towards the student be¬ 
nignly enough, but in a way that made him feel 
how uncombed and unbrushed he was, and how 
uncombed and unbrushed, likewise, were his 
mind and thoughts. 

“ Eustace,” said Mr. Pringle, with a smile, 
<c I find that you are producing a great sensa¬ 
tion among the little public of Tanglewood, by 
the exercise of your gifts of narrative. Prim- 
119 


A WONDER BOOK 


rose here, as the little folks choose to call her, 
and the rest of the children, have been so loud 
in praise of your stories, that Mrs. Pringle and 
myself are really curious to hear a specimen. 
It would be so much the more gratifying to 
myself, as the stories appear to be an attempt to 
render the fables of classical antiquity into the 
idiom of modern fancy and feeling. At least, 
so I judge from a few of the incidents which 
have come to me at second hand.” 

“You are not exactly the auditor that I 
should have chosen, sir,” observed the student, 
“ for fantasies of this nature.” 

“ Possibly not,” replied Mr. Pringle. “ I 
suspect, however, that a young author’s most 
useful critic is precisely the one whom he would 
be least apt to choose. Pray oblige me, there¬ 
fore.” 

“ Sympathy, methinks, should have some 
little critic’s share in the qualifications,” mur¬ 
mured Eustace Bright. <c However, sir, if you 
will find patience, I will find stories. But be 
kind enough to remember that I am addressing 
myself to the imagination and sympathies of the 
children, not to your own.” 

Accordingly, the student snatched hold of the 
first theme which presented itself. It was sug¬ 
gested by a plate of apples that he happened to 
spy on the mantel-piece. 

120 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 

D ID you ever hear of the golden apples, 
that grew in the garden of the Hes- 
perides ? Ah, those were such apples 
as would bring a great price, by the bushel, if 
any of them could be found growing in the 
orchards of nowadays ! But there is not, I sup¬ 
pose, a graft of that wonderful fruit on a single 
tree in the wide world. Not so much as a seed 
of those apples exists any longer. 

And, even in the old, old, half-forgotten 
times, before the garden of the Hesperides was 
overrun with weeds, a great many people doubted 
whether there could be real trees that bore 
apples of solid gold upon their branches. All 
had heard of them, but nobody remembered to 
have seen any. Children, nevertheless, used to 
listen, open-mouthed, to stories of the golden 
apple-tree, and resolved to discover it, when 
they should be big enough. Adventurous 
young men, who desired to do a braver thing 
than any of their fellows, set out in quest of 
this fruit. Many of them returned no more; 
none of them brought back the apples. No 
wonder that they found it impossible to gather 
them ! It is said that there was a dragon be- 


» 


A WONDER BOOK 

neath the tree, with a hundred terrible heads, 
fifty of which were always on the watch, while 
the other fifty slept. 

In my opinion it was hardly worth running 
so much risk for the sake of a solid golden ap¬ 
ple. Had the apples been sweet, mellow, and 
juicy, indeed, that would be another matter. 
There might then have been some sense in try¬ 
ing to get at them, in spite of the hundred¬ 
headed dragon. 

But, as I have already told you, it was quite 
a common thing with young persons x when tired 
of too much peace and rest, to go in search of 
the garden of the Hesperides. And once the 
adventure was undertaken by a hero who had 
enjoyed very little peace or rest since he came 
into the world. At the time of which I am 
going to speak, he was wandering through the 
pleasant land of Italy, with a mighty club in his 
hand, and a bow and quiver slung across his 
shoulders. He was wrapt in the skin of the 
biggest and fiercest lion that ever had been seen, 
and which he himself had killed ; and though 
on the whole he was kind, and generous, and 
noble, there was a good deal of the lion’s fierce¬ 
ness in his heart. As he went on his way, he 
continually inquired whether that were the right 
road to the famous garden. But none of the 
country people knew anything about the matter, 
and many looked as if they would have laughed 
122 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


at the question, if the stranger had not carried 
so very big a club. 

So he journeyed on and on, still making the 
same inquiry, until at last he came to the brink 
of a river where some beautiful young women 
sat twining wreaths of flowers. 

“ Can you tell me, pretty maidens/’ asked 
the stranger, “ whether this is the right way to 
the garden of the Hesperides ? ” 

The young women had been having a fine 
time together, weaving the flowers into wreaths 
and crowning one another’s heads. And there 
seemed to be a kind of magic in the touch of 
their fingers, that made the flowers more fresh 
and dewy, and of brighter hues, and sweeter 
fragrance, while they played with them, than 
even when they had been growing on their na¬ 
tive stems. But, on hearing the stranger’s ques¬ 
tion, they dropped all their flowers on the grass, 
and gazed at him with astonishment. 

“ The garden of the Hesperides ! ” cried one. 
“ We thought mortals had been weary of seek¬ 
ing it, after so many disappointments. And 
pray, adventurous traveller, what do you want 
there ? ” 

“ A certain king, who is my cousin,” replied 
he, “ has ordered me to get him three of the 
golden apples.” 

“ Most of the young men who go in quest 
of these apples,” observed another of the dam- 
123 


A WONDER BOOK 


sels, “ desire to obtain them for themselves, 
or to present them to some fair maiden whom 
they love. Do you, then, love this king, your 
cousin, so very much ? ” 

“ Perhaps not,” replied the stranger, sighing. 
“He has often been severe and cruel to me. 
But it is my destiny to obey him.” 

“ And do you know,” asked the damsel who 
had first spoken, “ that a terrible dragon, with a 
hundred heads, keeps watch under the golden 
apple-tree ? ” 

“ I know it well,” answered the stranger 
calmly. “ But, from my cradle upwards, it has 
been my business, and almost my pastime, to 
deal with serpents and dragons.” 

The young women looked at his massive 
club, and at the shaggy lion’s skin which he 
wore, and likewise at his heroic limbs and fig¬ 
ure ; and they whispered to each other that the 
stranger appeared to be one who might rea¬ 
sonably expect to perform deeds far beyond 
the might of other men. But then, the dragon 
with a hundred heads! What mortal, even 
if he possessed a hundred lives, could hope to 
escape the fangs of such a monster ? So kind- 
hearted were the maidens, that they could not 
bear to see this brave and handsome traveller 
attempt what was so very dangerous, and devote 
himself, most probably, to become a meal for 
the dragon’s hundred ravenous mouths. 

124 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


c< Go back,” cried they all, — “ go back to 
your own home ! Your mother, beholding you 
safe and sound, will shed tears of joy; and what 
can she do more, should you win ever so great 
a victory? No matter for the golden apples! 
No matter for the king, your cruel cousin ! 
We do not wish the dragon with the hundred 
heads to eat you up ! ” 

The stranger seemed to grow impatient at 
these remonstrances. He carelessly lifted his 
mighty club, and let it fall upon a rock that lay 
half buried in the earth, near by. With the 
force of that idle blow, the great rock was shat¬ 
tered all to pieces. It cost the stranger no more 
effort to achieve this feat of a giant’s strength 
than for one of the young maidens to touch her 
sister’s rosy cheek with a flower. 

“ Do you not believe,” said he, looking at 
the damsels with a smile, “ that such a blow 
would have crushed one of the dragon’s hundred 
heads ? ” 

Then he sat down on the grass, and told them 
the story of his life, or as much of it as he could 
remember, from the day when he was first cra¬ 
dled in a warrior’s brazen shield. While he lay 
there, two immense serpents came gliding over 
the floor, and opened their hideous jaws to de¬ 
vour him ; and he, a baby of a few months 
old, had griped one of the fierce snakes in each 
of his little fists, and strangled them to death. 

125 


A WONDER BOOK 


When he was but a stripling, he had killed a 
huge lion, almost as big as the one whose vast 
and shaggy hide he now wore upon his shoul¬ 
ders. The next thing that he had done was to 
fight a battle with an ugly sort of monster, called 
a hydra, which had no less than nine heads, and 
exceedingly sharp teeth in every one. 

“ But the dragon of the Hesperides, you 
know,” observed one of the damsels, “ has a 
hundred heads ! ” 

“ Nevertheless,” replied the stranger, “ I 
would rather fight two such dragons than a sin¬ 
gle hydra. For, as fast as I cut off a head, two 
others grew in its place ; and, besides, there was 
one of the heads that could not possibly be 
killed, but kept biting as fiercely as ever, long 
after it was cut off. So I was forced to bury 
it under a stone, where it is doubtless alive to 
this very day. But the hydra’s body, and its 
eight other heads, will never do any further 
mischief.” 

The damsels, judging that the story was likely 
to last a good while, had been preparing a re¬ 
past of bread and grapes, that the stranger might 
refresh himself in the intervals of his talk. 
They took pleasure in helping him to this sim¬ 
ple food ; and, now and then, one of them would 
put a sweet grape between her rosy lips, lest it 
should make him bashful to eat alone. 

The traveller proceeded to tell how he had 
126 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 

chased a very swift stag, for a twelvemonth to¬ 
gether, without ever stopping to take breath, 
and had at last caught it by the antlers, and 
carried it home alive. And he had fought with 
a very odd race of people, half horses and half 
men, and had put them all to death, from a 
sense of duty, in order that their ugly figures 
might never be seen any more. Besides all this, 
he took to himself great credit for having cleaned 
out a stable. 

“ Do you call that a wonderful exploit ? ” 
asked one of the young maidens, with a smile. 
“ Any clown in the country has done as much ! ” 
“ Had it been an ordinary stable,” replied the 
stranger, “ I should not have mentioned it. 
But this was so gigantic a task that it would 
have taken me all my life to perform it, if I had 
not luckily thought of turning the channel of a 
river through the stable door. That did the 
business in a very short time ! ” 

Seeing how earnestly his fair auditors listened, 
he next told them how he had shot some mon¬ 
strous birds, and had caught a wild bull alive 
and let him go again, and had tamed a number 
of very wild horses, and had conquered Hippo- 
lyta, the warlike queen of the Amazons. He 
mentioned, likewise, that he had taken off Hip- 
polyta’s enchanted girdle, and had given it to 
the daughter of his cousin, the king. 

“Was it the girdle of Venus,” inquired the 
127 


A WONDER BOOK 


prettiest of the damsels, “ which makes women 
beautiful ? ” 

“ No,” answered the stranger. “ It had for¬ 
merly been the sword-belt of Mars ; and it can 
only make the wearer valiant and courageous.” 

“An old sword-belt! ” cried the damsel, toss¬ 
ing her head. “ Then I should not care about 
having it! ” 

“You are right,” said the stranger. 

Going on with his wonderful narrative, he in¬ 
formed the maidens that as strange an adven¬ 
ture as ever happened was when he fought with 
Geryon, the six-legged man. This was a very 
odd and frightful sort of figure, as you may well 
believe. Any person, looking at his tracks in the 
sand or snow, would suppose that three sociable 
companions had been walking along together. 
On hearing his footsteps at a little distance, it 
was no more than reasonable to judge that sev¬ 
eral people must be coming. But it was only 
the strange man Geryon clattering onward with 
his six legs! 

Six legs, and one gigantic body! Certainly, 
he must have been a very queer monster to look 
at; and, my stars, what a waste of shoe leather ! 

When the stranger had finished the story of 
his adventures, he looked around at the atten¬ 
tive faces of the maidens. 

“ Perhaps you may have heard of me before,” 
said he modestly. “ My name is Hercules! ” 
128 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 

“We had already guessed it,” replied the 
maidens ; “ for your wonderful deeds are known 
all over the world. We do not think it strange 
any longer, that you should set out in quest of 
the golden apples of the Hesperides. Come, 
sisters, let us crown the hero with flowers ! ” 

Then they flung beautiful wreaths over his 
stately head and mighty shoulders, so that the 
lion’s skin was almost entirely covered with 
roses. They took possession of his ponderous 
club, and so entwined it about with the bright¬ 
est, softest, and most fragrant blossoms, that 
not a finger’s breadth of its oaken substance 
could be seen. It looked all like a huge bunch 
of flowers. Lastly, they joined hands and danced 
around him, — chanting words which became 
poetry of their own accord, and grew into a cho¬ 
ral song, in honor of the illustrious Hercules. 

And Hercules was rejoiced, as any other hero 
would have been, to know that these fair young 
girls had heard of the valiant deeds which it 
had cost him so much toil and danger to achieve. 
But still he was not satisfied. He could not 
think that what he had already done was worthy 
of so much honor, while there remained any 
bold or difficult adventure to be undertaken. 

“ Dear maidens,” said he, when they paused 
to take breath, “ now that you know my name, 
will you not tell me how I am to reach the gar¬ 
den of the Hesperides?” 

129 


A WONDER BOOK 


“ Ah ! must you go so soon ? ” they ex¬ 
claimed. “ You — that have performed so many 
wonders, and spent such a toilsome life — can¬ 
not you content yourself to repose a little while 
on the margin of this peaceful river ? ” 

Hercules shook his head. 

“ I must depart now,” said he. 

“ We will then give you the best directions 
we can,” replied the damsels. “ You must go 
to the seashore, and find out the Old One, and 
compel him to inform you where the golden 
apples are to be found.” 

“ The Old One ! ” repeated Hercules, laugh¬ 
ing at this odd name. £< And pray, who may 
the Old One be ? ” 

“ Why, the Old Man of the Sea, to be sure ! ” 
answered one of the damsels. “ He has fifty 
daughters, whom some people call very beauti¬ 
ful ; but we do not think it proper to be ac¬ 
quainted with them, because they have sea-green 
hair, and taper away like fishes. You must talk 
with this Old Man of the Sea. He is a sea¬ 
faring person, and knows all about the garden 
of the Hesperides ; for it is situated in an island 
which he is often in the habit of visiting.” 

Hercules then asked whereabouts the Old 
One was most likely to be met with. When the 
damsels had informed him, he thanked them for 
all their kindness, — for the bread and grapes 
with which they had fed him, the lovely flowers 
130 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


with which they had crowned him, and the songs 
and dances wherewith they had done him honor, 
— and he thanked them, most of all, for telling 
him the right way, — and immediately set forth 
upon his journey. 

But, before he was out of hearing, one of the 
maidens called after him. 

“ Keep fast hold of the Old One, when you 
catch him ! ” cried she, smiling, and lifting her 
finger to make the caution more impressive. 
“ Do not be astonished at anything that may 
happen. Only hold him fast, and he will tell 
you what you wish to know.” 

Hercules again thanked her, and pursued his 
way, while the maidens resumed their pleasant 
labor of making flower wreaths. They talked 
about the hero, long after he was gone. 

“ We will crown him with the loveliest of our 
garlands,” said they, “ when he returns hither 
with the three golden apples, after slaying the 
dragon with a hundred heads.” 

Meanwhile, Hercules travelled constantly on¬ 
ward, over hill and dale and through the soli¬ 
tary woods. Sometimes he swung his club aloft, 
and splintered a mighty oak with a downright 
blow. H is mind was so full of the giants and 
monsters with whom it was the business of his 
life to fight, that perhaps he mistook the great 
tree for a giant or a monster. And so eager was 
Hercules to achieve what he had undertaken, 
I 3 I 


A WONDER BOOK 


that he almost regretted to have spent so much 
time with the damsels, wasting idle breath upon 
the story of his adventures. But thus it always 
is with persons who are destined to perform 
great things. What they have already done 
seems less than nothing. What they have taken 
in hand to do seems worth toil, danger, and life 
itself. 

Persons who happened to be passing through 
the forest must have been affrighted to see him 
smite the trees with his great club. With but a 
single blow, the trunk was riven as by the stroke 
of lightning, and the broad boughs came rus¬ 
tling and crashing down. 

Hastening forward, without ever pausing or 
looking behind, he by and by heard the sea roar¬ 
ing at a distance. At this sound, he increased 
his speed, and soon came to a beach, where the 
great surf waves tumbled themselves upon the 
hard sand in a long line of snowy foam. At 
one end of the beach, however, there was a plea¬ 
sant spot, where some green shrubbery clam¬ 
bered up a cliff, making its rocky face look soft 
and beautiful. A carpet of verdant grass, largely 
intermixed with sweet-smelling clover, covered 
the narrow space between the bottom of the cliff 
and the sea. And what should Hercules espy 
there but an old man, fast asleep! 

But was it really and truly an old man ? Cer¬ 
tainly, at first sight, it looked very like one ; 

132 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


but, on closer inspection, it rather seemed to be 
some kind of a creature that lived in the sea. 
For on his legs and arms there were scales, such 
as fishes have ; he was web-footed and web-fin¬ 
gered, after the fashion of a duck ; and his long 
beard, being of a greenish tinge, had more the 
appearance of a tuft of seaweed than of an ordi¬ 
nary beard. Have you never seen a stick of 
timber, that has been long tossed about by the 
waves, and has got all overgrown with barnacles, 
and, at last drifting ashore, seems to have been 
thrown up from the very deepest bottom of the 
sea? Well, the old man would have put you 
in mind of just such a wave-tost spar! But 
Hercules, the instant he set eyes on this strange 
figure, was convinced that it could be no other 
than the Old One, who was to direct him on 
his way. 

Yes, it was the selfsame Old Man of the Sea 
whom the hospitable maidens had talked to him 
about. Thanking his stars for the lucky acci¬ 
dent of finding the old fellow asleep, Hercules 
stole on tiptoe towards him, and caught him by 
the arm and leg. 

“ Tell me,” cried he, before the Old One was 
well awake, “ which is the way to the garden of 
the Hesperides ? ” 

As you may easily imagine, the Old Man of 
the Sea awoke in a fright. But his astonish¬ 
ment could hardly have been greater than was 
133 


A WONDER BOOK 

that of Hercules, the next moment. For, all 
of a sudden, the Old One seemed to disappear 
out of his grasp, and he found himself holding 
a stag by the fore and hind leg ! But still he 
kept fast hold. Then the stag disappeared, and 
in its stead there was a sea-bird, fluttering and 
screaming, while Hercules clutched it by the 
wing and claw ! But the bird could not get 
away. Immediately afterwards there was an ugly 
three-headed dog, which growled and barked at 
Hercules, and snapped fiercely at the hands 
by which he held him ! But Hercules would 
not let him go. In another minute, instead of 
the three-headed dog, what should appear but 
Geryon, the six-legged man-monster, kicking 
at Hercules with five of his legs, in order to get 
the remaining one at liberty! But Hercules 
held on. By and by, no Geryon was there, but 
a huge snake, like one of those which Hercules 
had strangled in his babyhood, only a hundred 
times as big; and it twisted and twined about 
the hero’s neck and body, and threw its tail 
high into the air, and opened its deadly jaws as 
if to devour him outright; so that it was really 
a very terrible spectacle ! But Hercules was no 
whit disheartened, and squeezed the great snake 
so tightly that he soon began to hiss with pain. 

You must understand that the Old Man of 
the Sea, though he generally looked so much 
like the wave-beaten figure-head of a vessel, had 
*34 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


the power of assuming any shape he pleased. 
When he found himself so roughly seized by 
Hercules, he had been in hopes of putting him 
into such surprise and terror, by these magical 
transformations, that the hero would be glad to 
let him go. If Hercules had relaxed his grasp, 
the Old One would certainly have plunged down 
to the very bottom of the sea, whence he would 
not soon have given himself the trouble of com¬ 
ing up, in order to answer any impertinent ques¬ 
tions. Ninety-nine people out of a hundred, I 
suppose, would have been frightened out of their 
wits by the very first of his ugly shapes, and 
would have taken to their heels at once. For 
one of the hardest things in this world is, to see 
the difference between real dangers and imagi¬ 
nary ones. 

But, as Hercules held on so stubbornly, and 
only squeezed the Old One so much the tighter 
at every change of shape, and really put him to 
no small torture, he finally thought it best to 
reappear in his own figure. So there he was 
again, a fishy, scaly, web-footed sort of person¬ 
age, with something like a tuft of seaweed at 
his chin. 

“ Pray, what do you want with me ? ” cried 
the Old One, as soon as he could take breath ; 
for it is quite a tiresome affair to go through so 
many false shapes. “ Why do you squeeze me 
so hard ? Let me go, this moment, or I shall 
H5 


A WONDER BOOK 


begin to consider you an extremely uncivil per¬ 
son ! ” 

“ My name is Hercules ! ” roared the mighty 
stranger. “ And you will never get out of my 
clutch, until you tell me the nearest way to the 
garden of the Hesperides ! ” 

When the old fellow heard who it was that 
had caught him, he saw with half an eye that it 
would be necessary to tell him everything that 
he wanted to know. The Old One was an in¬ 
habitant of the sea, you must recollect, and 
roamed about everywhere, like other seafaring 
people. Of course, he had often heard of the 
fame of Hercules, and of the wonderful things 
that he was constantly performing, in various 
parts of the earth, and how determined he always 
was to accomplish whatever he undertook. He 
therefore made no more attempts to escape, but 
told the hero how to find the garden of the 
Hesperides, and likewise warned him of many 
difficulties which must be overcome, before he 
could arrive thither. 

“You must go on, thus and thus,” said the 
Old Man of the Sea, after taking the points of 
the compass, “ till you come in sight of a very 
tall giant, who holds the sky on his shoulders. 
And the giant, if he happens to be in the humor, 
will tell you exactly where the garden of the 
Hesperides lies.” 

“ And if the giant happens not to be in the 
136 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 

humor,” remarked Hercules, balancing his club 
on the tip of his finger, “perhaps I shall find 
means to persuade him ! ” 

Thanking the Old Man of the Sea, and beg¬ 
ging his pardon for having squeezed him so 
roughly, the hero resumed his journey. He met 
with a great many strange adventures, which 
would be well worth your hearing, if I had leisure 
to narrate them as minutely as they deserve. 

It was in this journey, if I mistake not, that 
he encountered a prodigious giant, who was 
so wonderfully contrived by nature that, every 
time he touched the earth, he became ten times 
as strong as ever he had been before. His name 
was Antaeus. You may see plainly enough, that 
it was a very difficult business to fight with such 
a fellow; for, as often as he got a knock-down 
blow, up he started again, stronger, fiercer, and 
abler to use his weapons, than if his enemy had 
let him alone. Thus, the harder Hercules 
pounded the giant with his club, the further he 
seemed from winning the victory. I have some¬ 
times argued with such people, but never fought 
with one. The only way in which Hercules 
found it possible to finish the battle, was by lift¬ 
ing Antaeu^ off his feet into the air, and squeez¬ 
ing, and squeezing, and squeezing him, until, 
finally, the strength was quite squeezed out of 
his enormous body. 

When this affair was finished, Hercules con- 

*37 


A WONDER BOOK 


tinued his travels, and went to the land of Egypt, 
where he was taken prisoner, and would have 
been put to death, if he had not slain the king 
of the country and made his escape. Passing 
through the deserts of Africa, and going as fast 
as he could, he arrived at last on the shore of 
the great ocean. And here, unless he could walk 
on the crests of the billows, it seemed as if his 
journey must needs be at an end. 

Nothing was before him, save the foaming, 
dashing, measureless ocean. But suddenly, as 
he looked towards the horizon, he saw some¬ 
thing, a great way off, which he had not seen 
the moment before. It gleamed very brightly, 
almost as you may have beheld the round, golden 
disk of the sun, when it rises or sets over the 
edge of the world. It evidently drew nearer; for 
at every instant this wonderful object became 
larger and more lustrous. At length it had 
come so nigh that Hercules discovered it to be 
an immense cup or bowl, made either of gold or 
burnished brass. How it had got afloat upon 
the sea is more than I can tell you. There it 
was, at all events, rolling on the tumultuous bil¬ 
lows, which tossed it up and down, and heaved 
their foamy tops against its sides, but without 
ever throwing their spray over the brim. 

“ I have seen many giants, in my time,” 
thought Hercules, “but never one that would 
need to drink his wine out of a cup like this! ” 

138 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


And, true enough, what a cup it must have 
been! 11 was as large — as large — but, in short, 
I am afraid to say how immeasurably large it 
was. To speak within bounds, it was ten times 
larger than a great mill-wheel; and, all of metal 
as it was, it floated over the heaving surges more 
lightly than an acorn-cup adown the brook. 
The waves tumbled it onward, until it grazed 
against the shore, within a short distance of the 
spot where Hercules was standing. 

As soon as this happened, he knew what was 
to be done; for he had not gone through so 
many remarkable adventures without learning 
pretty well how to conduct himself, whenever 
anything came to pass a little out of the com¬ 
mon rule. It was just as clear as daylight that 
this marvellous cup had been set adrift by some 
unseen power, and guided hitherward, in order 
to carry Hercules across the sea, on his way to 
the garden of the Hesperides. Accordingly, 
without a moment’s delay, he clambered over 
the brim, and slid down on the inside, where, 
spreading out his lion’s skin, he proceeded to 
take a little repose. He had scarcely rested, until 
now, since he bade farewell to the damsels on 
the margin of the river. The waves dashed, 
with a pleasant and ringing sound, against the 
circumference of the hollow cup; it rocked 
lightly to and fro, and the motion was s9 sooth- 
139 


A WONDER BOOK 


ing that it speedily rocked Hercules into an 
agreeable slumber. 

His nap had probably lasted a good while, 
when the cup chanced to graze against a rock, 
and, in consequence, immediately resounded 
and reverberated through its golden or brazen 
substance, a hundred times as loudly as ever you 
heard a church bell. The noise awoke Hercules, 
who instantly started up and gazed around him, 
wondering whereabouts he was. He was not 
long in discovering that the cup had floated 
across a great part of the sea, and was approach¬ 
ing the shore of what seemed to be an island. 
And, on that island, what do you think he saw ? 

No ; you will never guess it, not if you were 
to try fifty thousand times ! It positively ap¬ 
pears to me that this was the most marvellous 
spectacle that had ever been seen by Hercules, 
in the whole course of his wonderful travels and 
adventures. It was a greater marvel than the 
hydra with nine heads, which kept growing 
twice as fast as they were cut off; greater than 
the six-legged man-monster; greater than An¬ 
taeus ; greater than anything that was ever be¬ 
held by anybody, before or since the days of 
Hercules, or than anything that remains to be 
beheld, by travellers in all time to come. It 
was a giant! 

But such an intolerably big giant! A giant 
as tall as a mountain ; so vast a giant, that the 
140 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


clouds rested about his midst, like a girdle, and 
hung like a hoary beard from his chin, and flit¬ 
ted before his huge eyes, so that he could nei¬ 
ther see Hercules nor the golden cup in which 
he was voyaging. And, most wonderful of all, 
the giant held up his great hands and appeared 
to support the sky, which, so far as Hercules 
could discern through the clouds, was resting 
upon his head ! This does really seem almost 
too much to believe. 

Meanwhile the bright cup continued to float 
onward, and finally touched the strand. Just 
then a breeze wafted away the clouds from before 
the giant’s visage, and Hercules beheld it, with all 
its enormous features ; eyes each of them as big 
as yonder lake, a nose a mile long, and a mouth 
of the same width. It was a countenance ter¬ 
rible from its enormity of size, but disconsolate 
and weary, even as you may see the faces of 
many people, nowadays, who are compelled to 
sustain burdens above their strength. What 
the sky was to the giant, such are the cares of 
earth to those who let themselves be weighed 
down by them. And whenever men undertake 
what is beyond the just measure of their abili¬ 
ties, they encounter precisely such a doom as 
had befallen this poor giant. 

Poor fellow ! He had evidently stood there 
a long while. An ancient forest had been grow¬ 
ing and decaying around his feet; and oak-trees, 
141 


A WONDER BOOK 


of six or seven centuries old, had sprung from 
the acorn, and forced themselves between his 
toes. 

The giant now looked down from the far 
height of his great eyes, and perceiving Hercu¬ 
les, roared out, in a voice that resembled thun¬ 
der, proceeding out of the cloud that had just 
flitted away from his face. 

“ Who are you, down at my feet there ? 
And whence do you come, in that little cup ? " 

cc I am Hercules ! " thundered back the hero, 
in a voice pretty nearly or quite as loud as the 
giant's own. “ And I am seeking for the gar¬ 
den of the Hesperides ! " 

“ Ho! ho ! ho ! " roared the giant, in a fit of 
immense laughter. “ That is a wise adventure, 
truly!" 

“ And why not ? ” cried Hercules, getting 
a little angry at the giant's mirth. “ Do you 
think I am afraid of the dragon with a hundred 
heads?" 

Just at this time, while they were talking to¬ 
gether, some black clouds gathered about the 
giant’s middle, and burst into a tremendous 
storm of thunder and lightning, causing such a 
pother that Hercules found it impossible to dis¬ 
tinguish a word. Only the giant’s immeasur¬ 
able legs were to be seen, standing up into the 
obscurity of the tempest; and, now and then, a 
momentary glimpse of his whole figure, mantled 
142 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


in a volume of mist. He seemed to be speak¬ 
ing, most of the time ; but his big, deep, rough 
voice chimed in with the reverberations of the 
thunder-claps, and rolled away over the hills 
like them. Thus, by talking out of season, the 
foolish giant expended an incalculable quantity 
of breath, to no purpose ; for the thunder spoke 
quite as intelligibly as he. 

At last the storm swept over, as suddenly as 
it had come. And there again was the clear 
sky, and the weary giant holding it up, and the 
pleasant sunshine beaming over his vast height 
and illuminating it against the background of 
the sullen thunder-clouds. So far above the 
shower had been his head, that not a hair of it 
was moistened by the raindrops ! 

When the giant could see Hercules still 
standing on the seashore, he roared out to him 
anew. 

“ I am Atlas, the mightiest giant in the 
world! And I hold the sky upon my head ! ” 

“ So I see,” answered Hercules. “ But can 
you show me the way to the garden of the Hes- 
perides P ” 

<c What do you want there P ” asked the giant. 

“ I want three of the golden apples,” shouted 
Hercules, “ for my cousin, the king.” 

“ There is nobody but myself,” quoth the 
giant, “ that can go to the garden of the Hes- 
perides, and gather the golden apples. If it 
143 


A WONDER BOOK 


were not for this little business of holding up 
the sky, I would make half a dozen steps across 
the sea, and get them for you/* 

“ You are very kind,” replied Hercules. 
“ And cannot you rest the sky upon a moun¬ 
tain ? ” 

“ None of them are quite high enough,” said 
Atlas, shaking his head. “ But, if you were to 
take your stand on the summit of that nearest 
one, your head would be pretty nearly on a 
level with mine. You seem to be a fellow of 
some strength. What if you should take my 
burden on your shoulders, while I do your 
errand for you ? ” 

Hercules, as you must be careful to remem¬ 
ber, was a remarkably strong man ; and though 
it certainly requires a great deal of muscular 
power to uphold the sky, yet, if any mortal could 
be supposed capable of such an exploit, he was 
the one. Nevertheless, it seemed so difficult 
an undertaking, that, for the first time in his 
life, he hesitated. 

cc Is the sky very heavy ? ” he inquired. 

“ Why, not particularly so, at first,” answered 
the giant, shrugging his shoulders. “ But it gets 
to be a little burdensome, after a thousand 
years! ” 

“And how long a time,” asked the hero, 
cc will it take you to get the golden apples ? ” 

cc O, that will be done in a few moments,” 
144 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


cried Atlas. “ I shall take ten or fifteen miles 
at a stride, and be at the garden and back again 
before your shoulders begin to ache.” 

“ Well, then,” answered Hercules, cc I will 
climb the mountain behind you there, and re¬ 
lieve you of your burden.” 

The truth is, Hercules had a kind heart of 
his own, and considered that he should be do¬ 
ing the giant a favor, by allowing him this 
opportunity for a ramble. And besides, he 
thought that it would be still more for his own 
glory, if he could boast of upholding the sky, 
than merely to do so ordinary a thing as to con¬ 
quer a dragon with a hundred heads. Accord¬ 
ingly, without more words, the sky was shifted 
from the shoulders of Atlas, and placed upon 
those of Hercules. 

When this was safely accomplished, the first 
thing that the giant did was to stretch himself; 
and you may imagine what a prodigious spec¬ 
tacle he was then. Next, he slowly lifted one 
of his feet out of the forest that had grown up 
around it; then the other. Then, all at once, 
he began to caper, and leap, and dance, for joy 
at his freedom ; flinging himself nobody knows 
how high into the air, and floundering down 
again with a shock that made the earth tremble. 
Then he laughed — Ho ! ho ! ho !—with 
a thunderous roar that was echoed from the 
mountains far and near, as if they and the giant 
145 


A WONDER BOOK 


had been so many rejoicing brothers. When 
his joy had a little subsided, he stepped into 
the sea; ten miles at the first stride, which 
brought him midleg deep ; and ten miles at the 
second, when the water came just above his 
knees ; and ten miles more at the third, by which 
he was immersed nearly to his waist. This was 
the greatest depth of the sea. 

Hercules watched the giant, as he still went 
onward ; for it was really a wonderful sight, this 
immense human form, more than thirty miles 
off, half hidden in the ocean, but with his upper 
half as tall, and misty, and blue, as a distant 
mountain. At last the gigantic shape faded en¬ 
tirely out of view. And now Hercules began to 
consider what he should do, in case Atlas should 
be drowned in the sea, or if he were to be stung 
to death by the dragon with the hundred heads, 
which guarded the golden apples of Hesper- 
ides. If any such misfortune were to happen, 
how could he ever get rid of the sky ? And, by 
the bye, its weight began already to be a little 
irksome to his head and shoulders. 

“ I really pity the poor giant,” thought Her¬ 
cules. c< If it wearies me so much in ten min¬ 
utes, how must it have wearied him in a thou¬ 
sand years! ” 

O my sweet little people, you have no idea 
what a weight there was in that same blue sky, 
which looks so soft and aerial above our heads! 

146 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


And there, too, was the bluster of the wind, 
and the chill and watery clouds, and the blazing 
sun, all taking their turns to make Hercules 
uncomfortable ! He began to be afraid that the 
giant would never come back. He gazed wist¬ 
fully at the world beneath him, and acknow¬ 
ledged to himself that it was a far happier kind 
of life to be a shepherd at the foot of a moun¬ 
tain, than to stand on its dizzy summit and bear 
up the firmament with his might and main. For 
of course, as you will easily understand, Her¬ 
cules had an immense responsibility on his mind, 
as well as a weight on his head and shoulders. 
Why, if he did not stand perfectly still, and keep 
the sky immovable, the sun would perhaps be 
put ajar ! Or, after nightfall, a great many of the 
stars might be loosened from their places, and 
shower down, like fiery rain, upon the people's 
heads ! And how ashamed would the hero be, 
if, owing to his unsteadiness beneath its weight, 
the sky should crack, and show a great fissure 
quite across it! 

I know not how long it was before, to his 
unspeakable joy, he beheld the huge shape of 
the giant, like a cloud, on the far-off edge of 
the sea. At his nearer approach, Atlas held up 
his hand, in which Hercules could perceive 
three magnificent golden apples, as big as pump¬ 
kins, all hanging from one branch. 

“ I am glad to see you again," shouted Her- 

*47 


A WONDER BOOK 


cules, when the giant was within hearing. “ So 
you have got the golden apples ? ” 

“ Certainly, certainly/’ answered Atlas ; “and 
very fair apples they are. I took the finest that 
grew on the tree, I assure you. Ah! it is a 
beautiful spot, that garden of the Hesperides. 
Yes; and the dragon with a hundred heads is 
a sight worth any man’s seeing. After all, you 
had better have gone for the apples yourself.” 

“No matter,” replied Hercules. “ You have 
had a pleasant ramble, and have done the busi¬ 
ness as well as I could. I heartily thank you 
for your trouble. And now, as I have a long 
way to go and am rather in haste, — and as the 
king, my cousin, is anxious to receive the golden 
apples, — will you be kind enough to take the 
sky off my shoulders again ? ” 

“ Why, as to that,” said the giant, chucking 
the golden apples into the air twenty miles high, 
or thereabouts, and catching them as they came 
down, — “ as to that, my good friend, I con¬ 
sider you a little unreasonable. Cannot I carry 
the golden apples to the king, your cousin, much 
quicker than you could ? As his Majesty is in 
such a hurry to get them, I promise you to take 
my longest strides. And besides, I have no 
fancy for burdening myself with the sky, just 
now.” 

Here Hercules grew impatient, and gave a 
great shrug of his shoulders. It being now twi- 
148 


THE THREE GOLDEN APPLES 


light, you might have seen two or three stars 
tumble out of their places. Everybody on earth 
looked upward in affright, thinking that the 
sky might be going to fall next. 

“ O, that will never do! ” cried Giant Atlas, 
with a great roar of laughter. “ I have not let 
fall so many stars within the last five centuries. 
By the time you have stood there as long as I 
did, you will begin to learn patience ! ” 

“ What! ” shouted Hercules very wrath- 
fully, “ do you intend to make me bear this 
burden forever ? ” 

“ We will see about that, one of these days,” 
answered the giant. “ At all events, you ought 
not to complain, if you have to bear it the next 
hundred years, or perhaps the next thousand. 
I bore it a good while longer, in spite of the 
backache. Well then, after a thousand years, 
if I happen to feel in the mood, we may possi¬ 
bly shift about again. You are certainly a very 
strong man, and can never have a better oppor¬ 
tunity to prove it. Posterity will talk of you, 
I warrant it! ” 

“ Pish ! a fig for its talk ! ” cried Hercules, 
with another hitch of his shoulders. “ Just take 
the sky upon your head one instant, will you ? 
I want to make a cushion of my lion’s skin, for 
the weight to rest upon. It really chafes me, 
and will cause unnecessary inconvenience in so 
many centuries as I am to stand here.” 

149 


A WONDER BOOK 


“ That’s no more than fair, and I ’ll do it! ” 
quoth the giant; for he had no unkind feeling 
towards Hercules, and was merely acting with a 
too selfish consideration of his own ease. “ For 
just five minutes, then, I ’ll take back the sky. 
Only for five minutes, recollect! 1 have no idea 
of spending another thousand years as I spent 
the last. Variety is the spice of life, say I.” 

Ah, the thick-witted old rogue of a giant! 
He threw down the golden apples, and received 
back the sky, from the head and shoulders of 
Hercules, upon his own, where it rightly be¬ 
longed. And Hercules picked up the three 
golden apples, that were as big or bigger than 
pumpkins, and straightway set out on his jour¬ 
ney homeward, without paying the slightest 
heed to the thundering tones of the giant, who 
bellowed after him to come back. Another for¬ 
est sprang up around his feet, and grew ancient 
there ; and again might be seen oak-trees, of 
six or seven centuries old, that had waxed thus 
aged betwixt his enormous toes. 

And there stands the giant to this day; or, 
at any rate, there stands a mountain as tall as 
he, and which bears his name ; and when the 
thunder rumbles about its summit, we may im¬ 
agine it to be the voice of Giant Atlas, bellow¬ 
ing after Hercules ! 

150 


TANGLEWOOD FIRESIDE 


AFTER THE STORY 

C OUSIN EUSTACE,” demanded Sweet 
Fern, who had been sitting at the story¬ 
teller's feet, with his mouth wide open, 
“ exactly how tall was this giant ? ” 

“O Sweet Fern, Sweet Fern!” cried the 
student, “ do you think I was there, to measure 
him with a yard-stick ? Well, if you must know 
to a hair's breadth, I suppose he might be from 
three to fifteen miles straight upward, and that 
he might have seated himself on Taconic, and 
had Monument Mountain for a footstool.” 

“ Dear me ! ” ejaculated the good little boy, 
with a contented sort of a grunt, “ that was a 
giant, sure enough ! And how long was his lit¬ 
tle finger ? ” 

“As long as from Tanglewood to the lake,” 
said Eustace. 

“ Sure enough, that was a giant! ” repeated 
Sweet Fern, in an ecstasy at the precision of 
these measurements. “ And how broad, I won¬ 
der, were the shoulders of Hercules ? ” 

“ That is what I have never been able to find 
out,” answered the student. “ But I think they 

151 


A WONDER BOOK 


must have been a great deal broader than mine, 
or than your father’s, or than almost any shoul¬ 
ders which one sees nowadays.” 

“ I wish,” whispered Sweet Fern, with his 
mouth close to the student’s ear, “ that you 
would tell me how big were some of the oak- 
trees that grew between the giant’s toes.” 

“ They were bigger,” said Eustace, “ than the 
great chestnut-tree which stands beyond Captain 
Smith’s house.” 

“ Eustace,” remarked Mr. Pringle, after some 
deliberation, “ I find it impossible to express 
such an opinion of this story as will be likely 
to gratify, in the smallest degree, your pride of 
authorship. Pray let me advise you never more 
to meddle with a classical myth. Your imagi¬ 
nation is altogether Gothic, and will inevitably 
Gothicize everything that you touch. The ef¬ 
fect is like bedaubing a marble statue with paint. 
This giant, now ! How can you have ventured 
to thrust his huge, disproportioned mass among 
the seemly outlines of Grecian fable, the ten¬ 
dency of which is to reduce even the extrava¬ 
gant within limits, by its pervading elegance ? ” 

“ I described the giant as he appeared to me,” 
replied the student, rather piqued. “ And, sir, 
if you would only bring your mind into such a 
relation with these fables as is necessary in order 
to remodel them, you would see at once that an 
old Greek had no more exclusive right to them 
152 


TANGLEWOOD FIRESIDE 


than a modern Yankee has. They are the com¬ 
mon property of the world, and of all time. 
The ancient poets remodelled them at pleasure, 
and held them plastic in their hands ; and why 
should they not be plastic in my hands as 
well ? ” 

Mr. Pringle could not forbear a smile. 

“ And besides,” continued Eustace, “ the 
moment you put any warmth of heart, any pas¬ 
sion or affection, any human or divine morality, 
into a classic mould, you make it quite another 
thing from what it was before. My own opin¬ 
ion is, that the Greeks, by taking possession of 
these legends (which were the immemorial birth¬ 
right of mankind), and putting them into shapes 
of indestructible beauty, indeed, but cold and 
hearties^, have done all subsequent ages an in¬ 
calculable injury.” 

“ Which you, doubtless, were born to rem¬ 
edy,” said Mr. Pringle, laughing outright; — 
“ well, well, go on ; but take my advice, and 
never put any of your travesties on paper. 
And, as your next effort, what if you should try 
your hand on some one of the legends of 
Apollo ? ” 

“ Ah, sir, you propose it as an impossibility,” 
observed the student, after a moment’s medi¬ 
tation; “and, to be sure, at first thought, the 
idea of a Gothic Apollo strikes one rather ludi¬ 
crously. But I will turn over your suggestion 
!53 


A WONDER BOOK 


in my mind, and do not quite despair of suc¬ 
cess.” 

During the above discussion, the children 
(who understood not a word of it) had grown 
very sleepy, and were now sent off to bed. 
Their drowsy babble was heard, ascending the 
staircase, while a northwest wind roared loudly 
among the treetops of Tanglewood, and played 
an anthem around the house. Eustace Bright 
went back to the study, and again endeavored 
to hammer out some verses, but fell asleep be¬ 
tween two of the rhymes. 

i54 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


THE HILLSIDE 


Introductory to The Miraculous Pitcher 
TD when, and where, do you think we 



find the children next ? No longer in 


**■ the winter time, but in the merry month 
of May. No longer in Tanglewood play-room, 
or at Tanglewood fireside, but more than half¬ 
way up a monstrous hill — or a mountain, as 
perhaps it would be better pleased to have us 
call it. They had set out from home with the 
mighty purpose of climbing this high hill, even 
to the very tiptop of its bald head. To be sure, 
it was not quite so high as Chimborazo, or 
Mont Blanc, and was even a good deal lower 
than old Graylock. But, at any rate, it was 
higher than a thousand ant-hillocks, or a million 
of mole-hills ; and, when measured by the short 
strides of little children, might be reckoned a 
very respectable mountain. 

And was Cousin Eustace with the party ? 
Of that you may be certain ; else how could the 
book go on a step further ? He was now in 
the middle of the spring vacation, and looked 


i55 


r 


A WONDER BOOK 


pretty much as we saw him four or five months 
ago, except that, if you gazed quite closely at 
his upper lip, you could discern the funniest lit¬ 
tle bit of a mustache upon it. Setting aside 
this mark of mature manhood, you might have 
considered Cousin Eustace just as much a boy 
as when you first became acquainted with him. 
He was as merry, as playful, as good humored, 
as light of foot and of spirits, and equally a 
favorite with the little folks, as he had always 
been. This expedition up the mountain was 
entirely of his contrivance. All the way up the 
steep ascent, he had encouraged the elder chil¬ 
dren with his cheerful voice ; and when Dande¬ 
lion, Cowslip, and Squash-Blossom grew weary, 
he had lugged them along, alternately, on his 
back. In this manner, they had passed through 
the orchards and pastures on the lower part 
of the hill, and had reached the wood, which 
extends thence towards its bare summit. 

The month of May, thus far, had been more 
amiable than it often is, and this was as sweet 
and genial a day as the heart of man or child 
could wish. In their progress up the hill, the 
small people had found enough of violets, blue 
and white, and some that were as golden as if 
they had the touch* of Midas on them. That 
sociablest of flowers, the little Houstonia, was 
very abundant. It is a flower that never lives 
alone, but which loves its own kind, and is al- 
156 


THE HILLSIDE 


ways fond of dwelling with a great many friends 
and relatives around it. Sometimes you see a 
family of them, covering a space no bigger than 
the palm of your hand ; and sometimes a large 
community, whitening a whole tract of pasture, 
and all keeping one another in cheerful heart 
and life. 

Within the verge of the wood there were 
columbines, looking more pale than red, because 
they were so modest, and had thought proper 
to seclude themselves too anxiously from the 
sun. There were wild geraniums, too, and a 
thousand white blossoms of the strawberry. 
The trailing arbutus was not yet quite out of 
bloom; but it hid its precious flowers under 
the last year’s withered forest leaves, as carefully 
as a mother bird hides its little young ones. 
It knew, I suppose, how beautiful and sweet 
scented they were. So cunning was their con¬ 
cealment, that the children sometimes smelt the 
delicate richness of their perfume before they 
knew whence it proceeded. 

Amid so much new life, it was strange and 
truly pitiful to behold, here and there, in the 
fields and pastures, the hoary periwigs of dande¬ 
lions that had already gone to seed. They had 
done with summer before the summer came. 
Within those small globes of winged seeds it 
was autumn now ! 

Well, but we must not waste our valuable 
157 


A WONDER BOOK 


pages with any more talk about the spring-time 
and wild flowers. There is something, we hope, 
more interesting to be talked about. If you 
look at the group of children, you may see them 
all gathered around Eustace Bright, who, sitting 
on the stump of a tree, seems to be just begin¬ 
ning a story. The fact is, the younger part of 
the troop have found out that it takes rather 
too many of their short strides to measure the 
long ascent of the hill. Cousin Eustace, there¬ 
fore, has decided to leave Sweet Fern, Cowslip, 
Squash-Blossom, and Dandelion at this point, 
midway up, until the return of the rest of the 
party from the summit. And because they com¬ 
plain a little, and do not quite like to stay be¬ 
hind, he gives them some apples out of his 
pocket, and proposes to tell them a very pretty 
story. Hereupon they brighten up, and change 
their grieved looks into the broadest kind of 
smiles. 

As for the story, I was there to hear it, hid¬ 
den behind a bush, and shall tell it over to you 
in the pages that come next. 

158 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


NE evening, in times long ago, old Phi¬ 



lemon and his old wife Baucis sat at 


their cottage door, enjoying the calm 
and beautiful sunset. They had already eaten 
their frugal supper, and intended now to spend 
a quiet hour or two before bedtime. So they 
talked together about their garden, and their 
cow, and their bees, and their grapevine, which 
clambered over the cottage wall, and on which 
the grapes were beginning to turn purple. But 
the rude shouts of children, and the fierce bark¬ 
ing of dogs, in the village near at hand, grew 
louder and louder, until, at last, it was hardly 
possible for Baucis and Philemon to hear each 
other speak. 

“ Ah, wife,” cried Philemon, “ I fear some 
poor traveller is seeking hospitality among our 
neighbors yonder, and, instead of giving him 
food and lodging, they have set their dogs at 
him, as their custom is! ” 

“Welladay!” answered old Baucis, “ I do 
wish our neighbors felt a little more kindness 
for their fellow creatures. And only think of 
bringing up their children in this naughty way. 


159 


A WONDER BOOK 


and patting them on the head when they fling 
stones at strangers ! ” 

<c Those children will never come to any 
good,” said Philemon, shaking his white head. 
“ To tell you the truth, wife, I should not won¬ 
der if some terrible thing were to happen to all 
the people in the village, unless they mend their 
manners. But, as for you and me, so long as 
Providence affords us a crust of bread, let us 
be ready to give half to any poor, homeless 
stranger, that may come along and need it.” 

“ That’s right, husband ! ” said Baucis. <c So 
we will! ” 

These old folks, you must know, were quite 
poor, and had to work pretty hard for a living. 
Old Philemon toiled diligently in his garden, 
while Baucis was always busy with her distaff, or 
making a little butter and cheese with their cow’s 
milk, or doing one thing and another about the 
cottage. Their food was seldom anything but 
bread, milk, and vegetables, with sometimes a 
portion of honey from their beehive, and now 
and then a bunch of grapes, that had ripened 
against the cottage wall. But they were two of 
the kindest old people in the world, and would 
cheerfully have gone without their dinners, any 
day, rather than refuse a slice of their brown 
loaf, a cup of new milk, and a spoonful of honey 
to the weary traveller who might pause before 
their door. They felt as if such guests had a 
160 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


sort of holiness, and that they ought, therefore, 
to treat them better and more bountifully than 
their own selves. 

Their cottage stood on a rising ground, at 
some short distance from a village, which lay in 
a hollow valley that was about half a mile in 
breadth. This valley, in past ages when the 
world was new, had probably been the bed of a 
lake. There fishes had glided to and fro in the 
depths, and water-weeds had grown along the 
margin, and trees and hills had seen their re¬ 
flected images in the broad and peaceful mirror. 
But, as the waters subsided, men had cultivated 
the soil, and built houses on it, so that it was 
now a fertile spot, and bore no traces of the 
ancient lake, except a very small brook, which 
meandered through the midst of the village and 
supplied the inhabitants with water. The valley 
had been dry land so long that oaks had sprung 
up, and grown great and high, and perished with 
old age, and been succeeded by others as tall 
and stately as the first. Never was there a pret¬ 
tier or more fruitful valley. The very sight of 
the plenty around them should have made the 
inhabitants kind and gentle, and ready to show 
their gratitude to Providence by doing good to 
their fellow creatures. 

But, we are sorry to say, the people of this 
lovely village were not worthy to dwell in a spot 
on which Heaven had smiled so beneficently. 

161 


A WONDER BOOK 

They were a very selfish and hard-hearted peo¬ 
ple, and had no pity for the poor nor sympa¬ 
thy with the homeless. They would only have 
laughed, had anybody told them that human 
beings owe a debt of love to one another, be¬ 
cause there is no other method of paying the 
debt of love and care which all of us owe to 
Providence. You will hardly believe what I am 
going to tell you. These naughty people taught 
their children to be no better than themselves, 
and used to clap their hands, by way of encour¬ 
agement, when they saw the little boys and girls 
run after some poor stranger, shouting at his 
heels, and pelting him with stones. They kept 
large and fierce dogs, and whenever a traveller 
ventured to show himself in the village street, 
this pack of disagreeable curs scampered to meet 
him, barking, snarling, and showing their teeth. 
Then they would seize him by his leg, or by his 
clothes, just as it happened; and if he were 
ragged when he came, he was generally a pitia¬ 
ble object before he had time to run away. This 
was a very terrible thing to poor travellers, as 
you may suppose, especially when they chanced 
to be sick, or feeble, or lame, or old. Such per¬ 
sons (if they once knew how badly these unkind 
people, and their unkind children and curs, were 
in the habit of behaving) would go miles and 
miles out of their way, rather than try to pass 
through the village again. 

162 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


What made the matter seem worse, if possible, 
was that when rich persons came in their chariots, 
or riding on beautiful horses with their servants 
in rich liveries attending on them, nobody could 
be more civil and obsequious than the inhabitants 
of the village. They would take off their hats, 
and make the humblest bows you ever saw. If 
the children were rude, they were pretty certain 
to get their ears boxed; and as for the dogs, if 
a single cur in the pack presumed to yelp, his 
master instantly beat him with a club, and tied 
him up without any supper. This would have 
been all very well, only it proved that the vil¬ 
lagers cared much about the money that a stran¬ 
ger had in his pocket, and nothing whatever 
for the human soul, which lives equally in the 
beggar and the prince. 

So now you can understand why old Phile¬ 
mon spoke so sorrowfully, when he heard the 
shouts of the children and the barking of the 
dogs, at the farther extremity of the village 
street. There was a confused din, which lasted 
a good while, and seemed to pass quite through 
the breadth of the valley. 

cc I never heard the dogs so loud! ” observed 
the good old man. 

“ Nor the children so rude ! ” answered his 
good old wife. 

They sat shaking their heads, one to another, 
while the noise came nearer and nearer; until, 
163 


A WONDER BOOK 


at the foot of the little eminence on which their 
cottage stood, they saw two travellers approach¬ 
ing on foot. Close behind them came the fierce 
dogs, snarling at their very heels. A little far¬ 
ther off ran a crowd of children, who sent up 
shrill cries, and flung stones at the two strangers 
with all their might. Once or twice, the younger 
of the two men (he was a slender and very active 
figure) turned about and drove back the dogs 
with a staff which he carried in his hand. His 
companion, who was a very tall person, walked 
calmly along, as if disdaining to notice either the 
naughty children, or the pack of curs, whose 
manners the children seemed to imitate. 

Both of the travellers were very humbly clad, 
and looked as if they might not have money 
enough in their pockets to pay for a night’s 
lodging. And this, I am afraid, was the reason 
why the villagers had allowed their children and 
dogs to treat them so rudely. 

“ Come, wife,” said Philemon to Baucis, c< let 
us go and meet these poor people. No doubt 
they feel almost too heavy hearted to climb the 
hill.” 

“ Go you and meet them,” answered Baucis r 
“ while I make haste within doors, and see 
whether we can get them anything for supper. 
A comfortable bowl of bread and milk would 
do wonders towards raising their spirits.” 

Accordingly, she hastened into the cottage. 

164 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 

Philemon, on his part, went forward, and ex¬ 
tended his hand with so hospitable an aspect 
that there was no need of saying what never¬ 
theless he did say, in the heartiest tone imagin¬ 
able, — 

“ Welcome, strangers ! welcome ! ” 

“ Thank you ! '' replied the younger of the 
two, in a lively kind of way, notwithstanding 
his weariness and trouble. “ This is quite an¬ 
other greeting than we have met with yonder in 
the village. Pray, why do you live in such a 
bad neighborhood ? ” 

“ Ah ! ” observed old Philemon, with a quiet 
and benign smile, “ Providence put me here, I 
hope, among other reasons, in order that I may 
make you what amends I can for the inhospi¬ 
tality of my neighbors.” 

“Well said, old father!” cried the travel¬ 
ler, laughing ; “ and, if the truth must be told, 
my companion and myself need some amends. 
Those children (the little rascals !) have bespat¬ 
tered us finely with their mud-balls; and one of 
the curs has torn my cloak, which was ragged 
enough already. But I took him across the 
muzzle with my staff; and I think you may 
have heard him yelp, even thus far off.” 

Philemon was glad to see him in such good 
spirits; nor, indeed, would you have fancied, 
by the traveller's look and manner, that he was 
weary with a long day's journey, besides being 
165 


A WONDER BOOK 

disheartened by rough treatment at the end of 
it. He was dressed in rather an odd way, with 
a sort of cap on his head, the brim of which 
stuck out over both ears. Though it was a 
summer evening, he wore a cloak, which he 
kept wrapt closely about him, perhaps because 
his under garments were shabby. Philemon 
perceived, too, that he had on a singular pair 
of shoes ; but, as it was now growing dusk, and 
as the old man’s eyesight was none the sharpest, 
he could not precisely tell in what the strange¬ 
ness consisted. One thing, certainly, seemed 
queer. The traveller was so wonderfully light 
and active, that it appeared as if his feet some¬ 
times rose from the ground of their own accord, 
or could only be kept down by an effort. 

“ I used to be light footed, in my youth,” 
said Philemon to the traveller. “ But I always 
found my feet grow heavier towards night¬ 
fall.” 

“ There is nothing like a good staff to help 
one along,” answered the stranger ; “ and I hap¬ 
pen to have an excellent one, as you see.” 

This staff, in fact, was the oddest-looking 
staff that Philemon had ever beheld. It was 
made of olive-wood, and had something like a 
little pair of wings near the top. Two snakes, 
carved in the wood, were represented as twining 
themselves about the staff, and were so very 
skilfully executed that old Philemon (whose 
166 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


eyes, you know, were getting rather dim) almost 
thought them alive, and that he could see them 
wriggling and twisting. 

“ A curious piece of work, sure enough! ” 
said he. <c A staff with wings ! It would be an 
excellent kind of stick for a little boy to ride 
astride of! ” 

By this time, Philemon and his two guests 
had reached the cottage door. 

“ Friends,” said the old man, “ sit down and 
rest yourselves here on this bench. My good 
wife Baucis has gone to see what you can have 
for supper. We are poor folks ; but you shall 
be welcome to whatever we have in the cup¬ 
board.” 

The younger stranger threw himself carelessly 
on the bench, letting his staff fall, as he did so. 
And here happened something rather marvel¬ 
lous, though trifling enough, too. The staff 
seemed to get up from the ground of its own 
accord, and, spreading its little pair of wings, 
it half hopped, half flew, and leaned itself against 
the wall of the cottage. There it stood quite 
still, except that the snakes continued to wriggle. 
But, in my private opinion, old Philemon’s eye¬ 
sight had been playing him tricks again. 

Before he could ask any questions, the elder 
stranger drew his attention from the wonderful 
staff, by speaking to him. 

“ Was there not,” asked the stranger, in a 
167 


A WONDER BOOK 


remarkably deep tone of voice, cc a lake, in very 
ancient times, covering the spot where now 
stands yonder village ? ” 

“ Not in my day, friend,” answered Phile¬ 
mon ; “ and yet I am an old man, as you see. 
There were always the fields and meadows, just 
as they are now, and the old trees, and the little 
stream murmuring through the midst of the 
valley. My father, nor his father before him, 
ever saw it otherwise, so far as I know; and 
doubtless it will still be the same, when old 
Philemon shall be gone and forgotten ! ” 

“ That is more than can be safely foretold,” 
observed the stranger; and there was something 
very stern in his deep voice. He shook his 
head, too, so that his dark and heavy curls were 
shaken with the movement. “ Since the in¬ 
habitants of yonder village have forgotten the 
affections and sympathies of their nature, it were 
better that the lake should be rippling over their 
dwellings again ! ” 

The traveller looked so stern that Philemon 
was really almost frightened ; the more so that, 
at his frown, the twilight seemed suddenly to 
grow darker, and that, when he shook his head, 
there was a roll as of thunder in the air. 

But, in a moment afterwards, the stranger’s 
face became so kindly and mild, that the old 
man quite forgot his terror. Nevertheless, he 
could not help feeling that this elder traveller 
168 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


must be no ordinary personage, although he 
happened now to be attired so humbly and to 
be journeying on foot. Not that Philemon fan¬ 
cied him a prince in disguise, or any character of 
that sort; but rather some exceedingly wise man, 
who went about the world in this poor garb, 
despising wealth and all worldly objects, and 
seeking everywhere to add a mite to his wisdom. 
This idea appeared the more probable, because, 
when Philemon raised his eyes to the stranger’s 
face, he seemed to see more thought there, in 
one look, than he could have studied out in a 
lifetime. 

While Baucis was getting the supper, the 
travellers both began to talk very sociably with 
Philemon. The younger, indeed, was extremely 
loquacious, and made such shrewd and witty 
remarks, that the good old man continually 
burst out a-laughing, and pronounced him the 
merriest fellow whom he had seen for many a 
day. 

“ Pray, my young friend,” said he, as they 
grew familiar together, “ what may I call your 
name ? ” 

“ Why, I am very nimble, as you see,” an¬ 
swered the traveller. “ So, if you call me Quick¬ 
silver, the name will fit tolerably well.” 

“ Quicksilver ? Quicksilver ? ” repeated Phi¬ 
lemon, looking in the traveller’s face, to see if 
he were making fun of him. “ It is a very odd 
169 


A WONDER BOOK 


name ! And your companion there ? Has he 
as strange a one ? ” 

“ You must ask the thunder to tell it you ! ” 
replied Quicksilver, putting on a mysterious 
look. “ No other voice is loud enough.” 

This remark, whether it were serious or in 
jest, might have caused Philemon to conceive 
a very great awe of the elder stranger, if, on 
venturing to gaze at him, he had not beheld 
so much beneficence in his visage. But, un¬ 
doubtedly, here was the grandest figure that 
ever sat so humbly beside a cottage door. 
When the stranger conversed, it was with grav¬ 
ity, and in such a way that Philemon felt irre¬ 
sistibly moved to tell him everything which he 
had most at heart. This is always the feeling 
that people have, when they meet with any one 
wise enough to comprehend all their good and 
evil, and to despise not a tittle of it. 

But Philemon, simple and kind-hearted old 
man that he was, had not many secrets to dis¬ 
close. He talked, however, quite garrulously, 
about the events of his past life, in the whole 
course of which he had never been a score of 
miles from this very spot. His wife Baucis and 
himself had dwelt in the cottage from their 
youth upward, earning their bread by honest 
labor, always poor, but still contented. He told 
what excellent butter and cheese Baucis made, 
and how nice were the vegetables which he 
170 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


raised in his garden. He said too, that, be¬ 
cause they loved one another so very much, it 
was the wish of both that death might not sepa¬ 
rate them, but that they should die, as they had 
lived, together. 

As the stranger listened, a smile beamed over 
his countenance, and made its expression as 
sweet as it was grand. 

“ You are a good old man,” said he to Phile¬ 
mon, “ and you have a good old wife to be your 
helpmeet. It is fit that your wish be granted.” 

And it seemed to Philemon, just then, as if 
the sunset clouds threw up a bright flash from 
the west, and kindled a sudden light in the 
sky. 

Baucis had now got supper ready, and, com¬ 
ing to the door, began to make apologies for the 
poor fare which she was forced to set before 
her guests. 

“ Had we known you were coming/’ said 
she, “ my good man and myself would have 
gone without a morsel, rather than you should 
lack a better supper. But I took the most part 
of to-day’s milk to make cheese; and our last 
loaf is already half eaten. Ah me! I never feel 
the sorrow of being poor, save when a poor trav¬ 
eller knocks at our door.” 

“ All will be very well; do not trouble your¬ 
self, my good dame,” replied the elder stranger 
kindly. “ An honest, hearty welcome to a guest 
I 7 I 


A WONDER BOOK 


works miracles with the fare, and is capable of 
turning the coarsest food to nectar and ambro¬ 
sia.” 

“ A welcome you shall have,” cried Baucis, 
“ and likewise a little honey that we happen to 
have left, and a bunch of purple grapes be¬ 
sides.” 

“ Why, Mother Baucis, it is a feast! ” ex¬ 
claimed Quicksilver, laughing, “ an absolute 
feast! and you shall see how bravely I will play 
my part at it! I think I never felt hungrier in 
my life.” 

“ Mercy on us ! ” whispered Baucis to her 
husband. “ If the young man has such a terri¬ 
ble appetite, I am afraid there will not be half 
enough supper! ” 

They all went into the cottage. 

And now, my little auditors, shall I tell you 
something that will make you open your eyes 
very wide ? It is really one of the oddest cir¬ 
cumstances in the whole story. Quicksilver’s 
staff, you recollect, had set itself up against the 
wall of the cottage. Well; when its master 
entered the door, leaving this wonderful staff 
behind, what should it do but immediately 
spread its little wings, and go hopping and flut¬ 
tering up the doorsteps ! Tap, tap, went the 
staff, on the kitchen floor; nor did it rest until 
it had stood itself on end, with the greatest 
gravity and decorum, beside Quicksilver’s chair. 

172 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


Old Philemon, however, as well as his wife, was 
so taken up in attending to their guests, that 
no notice was given to what the staff had been 
about. 

As Baucis had said, there was but a scanty 
supper for two hungry travellers. In the mid¬ 
dle of the table was the remnant of a brown 
loaf, with a piece of cheese on one side of it 
and a dish of honeycomb on the other. There 
was a pretty good bunch of grapes for each of 
the guests. A moderately sized earthen pitcher, 
nearly full of milk, stood at a corner of the 
board; and when Baucis had filled two bowls, 
and set them before the strangers, only a little 
milk remained in the bottom of the pitcher. 
Alas ! it is a very sad business, when a boun¬ 
tiful heart finds itself pinched and squeezed 
among narrow circumstances. Poor Baucis kept 
wishing that she might starve for a week to 
come, if it were possible, by so doing, to pro¬ 
vide these hungry folks a more plentiful supper. 

And, since the supper was so exceedingly 
small, she could not help wishing that their ap¬ 
petites had not been quite so large. Why, at 
their very first sitting down, the travellers both 
drank off all the milk in their two bowls, at a 
draught. 

“ A little more milk, kind Mother Baucis, if 
you please,” said Quicksilver. “ The day has 
been hot, and I am very much athirst.” 

173 


A WONDER BOOK 


“ Now, my dear people,” answered Baucis, 
in great confusion, “ I am so sorry and ashamed! 
But the truth is, there is hardly a drop more 
milk in the pitcher. O husband ! husband ! 
why did n't we go without our supper ? ” 

“ Why, it appears to me,” cried Quicksilver, 
starting up from table and taking the pitcher by 
the handle, “ it really appears to me that mat¬ 
ters are not quite so bad as you represent them. 
Here is certainly more milk in the pitcher.” 

So saying, and to the vast astonishment of 
Baucis, he proceeded to fill, not only his own 
bowl, but his companion's likewise, from the 
pitcher that was supposed to be almost empty. 
The good woman could scarcely believe her 
eyes. She had certainly poured out nearly all 
the milk, and had peeped in afterwards, and 
seen the bottom of the pitcher, as she set it 
down upon the table. 

“ But I am old,” thought Baucis to herself, 
“ and apt to be forgetful. I suppose I must 
have made a mistake. At all events, the pitcher 
cannot help being empty now, after filling the 
bowls twice over.” 

“ What excellent milk! ” observed Quick¬ 
silver, after quaffing the contents of the second 
bowl. “ Excuse me, my kind hostess, but I 
must really ask you for a little more.” 

Now Baucis had seen, as plainly as she could 
see anything, that Quicksilver had turned the 
*74 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


pitcher upside down, and consequently had 
poured out every drop of milk, in filling the 
last bowl. Of course, there could not possibly 
be any left. However, in order to let him know 
precisely how the case was, she lifted the pitcher, 
and made a gesture as if pouring milk into 
Quicksilver’s bowl, but without the remotest 
idea that any milk would stream forth. What 
was her surprise, therefore, when such an abun¬ 
dant cascade fell bubbling into the bowl, that it 
was immediately filled to the brim, and over¬ 
flowed upon the table ! The two snakes that 
were twisted about Quicksilver’s staff (but nei¬ 
ther Baucis nor Philemon happened to observe 
this circumstance) stretched out their heads, 
and began to lap up the spilt milk. 

And then what a delicious fragrance the milk 
had ! It seemed as if Philemon’s only cow 
must have pastured, that day, on the richest 
herbage that could be found anywhere in the 
world. I only wish that each of you, my be¬ 
loved little souls, could have a bowl of such 
nice milk, at supper-time ! 

“ And now a slice of your brown loaf, Mother 
Baucis,” said Quicksilver, “ and a little of that 
honey ! ” 

Baucis cut him a slice, accordingly; and 
though the loaf, when she and her husband ate 
of it, had been rather too dry and crusty to be 
palatable, it was now as light and moist as if but 
*75 


A WONDER BOOK 


a few hours out of the oven. Tasting a crumb, 
which had fallen on the table, she found it more 
delicious than bread ever was before, and could 
hardly believe that it was a loaf of her own 
kneading and baking. Yet, what other loaf 
could it possibly be ? 

But, O, the honey ! I may just as well let 
it alone, without trying to describe how exqui¬ 
sitely it smelt and looked. Its color was that 
of the purest and most transparent gold; and 
it had the odor of a thousand flowers ; but of 
such flowers as never grew in an earthly garden, 
and to seek which the bees must have flown 
high above the clouds. The wonder is, that, 
after alighting on a flower bed of so delicious 
fragrance and immortal bloom, they should have 
been content to fly down again to their hive in 
Philemon’s garden. Never was such honey 
tasted, seen, or smelt. The perfume floated 
around the kitchen, and made it so delightful, 
that, had you closed your eyes, you would in¬ 
stantly have forgotten the low ceiling and smoky 
walls, and have fancied yourself in an arbor, 
with celestial honeysuckles creeping over it. 

Although good Mother Baucis was a simple 
old dame, she could not but think that there 
was something rather out of the common way, 
in all that had been going on. So, after helping 
the guests to bread and honey, and laying a 
bunch of grapes by each of their plates, she sat 
176 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


down by Philemon, and told him what she had 
seen, in a whisper. 

“ Did you ever hear the like ? ” asked she. 

“ No, I never did,” answered Philemon, with 
a smile. “ And I rather think, my dear old 
wife, you have been walking about in a sort of 
a dream. If I had poured out the milk, I should 
have seen through the business at once. There 
happened to be a little more in the pitcher than 
you thought, — that is all.” 

“ Ah, husband,” said Baucis, “ say what you 
will, these are very uncommon people.” 

“ Well, well,” replied Philemon, still smiling, 
“ perhaps they are. They certainly do look as if 
they had seen better days, and I am heartily glad 
to see them making so comfortable a supper.” 

Each of the guests had now taken his bunch 
of grapes upon his plate. Baucis (who rubbed 
her eyes, in order to see the more clearly) was of 
opinion that the clusters had grown larger and 
richer, and that each separate grape seemed to be 
on the point of bursting with ripe juice. It was 
entirely a mystery to her how such grapes could 
ever have been produced from the old stunted 
vine that climbed against the cottage wall. 

“ Very admirable grapes these!” observed 
Quicksilver, as he swallowed one after another, 
without apparently diminishing his cluster. 
cc Pray, my good host, whence did you gather 
them ? ” 


177 


A WONDER BOOK 


“ From my own vine,” answered Philemon. 
“ You may see one of its branches twisting 
across the window, yonder. But wife and I 
never thought the grapes very fine ones.” 

“ I never tasted better,” said the guest. “An¬ 
other cup of this delicious milk, if you please, 
and I shall then have supped better than a 
prince.” 

This time, old Philemon bestirred himself, 
and took up the pitcher; for he was curious to 
discover whether there was any reality in the 
marvels which Baucis had whispered to him. 
He knew that his good old wife was incapable 
of falsehood, and that she was seldom mistaken 
in what she supposed to be true; but this was 
so very singular a case, that he wanted to see 
into it with his own eyes. On taking up the 
pitcher, therefore, he slyly peeped into it, and 
was fully satisfied that it contained not so much 
as a single drop. All at once, however, he be¬ 
held a little white fountain, which gushed up 
from the bottom of the pitcher, and speedily 
filled it to the brim with foaming and deliciously 
fragrant milk. It was lucky that Philemon, in 
his surprise, did not drop the miraculous pitcher 
from his hand. 

“ Who are ye, wonder-working strangers ! ” 
cried he, even more bewildered than his wife 
had been. 

“ Your guests, my good Philemon, and your 
178 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


friends,” replied the elder traveller, in his mild, 
deep voice, that had something at once sweet 
and awe-inspiring in it. “ Give me likewise a 
cup of the milk ; and may your pitcher never be 
empty for kind Baucis and yourself, any more 
than for the needy wayfarer ! ” 

The supper being now over, the strangers 
requested to be shown to their place of repose. 
The old people would gladly have talked with 
them a little longer, and have expressed the won¬ 
der which they felt, and their delight at finding 
the poor and meagre supper prove so much bet¬ 
ter and more abundant than they hoped. But 
the elder traveller had inspired them with such 
reverence, that they dared not ask him any ques¬ 
tions. And when Philemon drew Quicksilver 
aside, and inquired how under the sun a foun¬ 
tain of milk could have got into an old earthen 
pitcher, this latter personage pointed to his staff. 

“ There is the whole mystery of the affair,” 
quoth Quicksilver; “ and if you can make it 
out, I ’ll thank you to let me know. I can’t tell 
what to make of my staff. It is always playing 
such odd tricks as this; sometimes getting me 
a supper, and, quite as often, stealing it away. 
If I had any faith in such nonsense, I should 
say the stick was bewitched ! ” 

He said no more, but looked so slyly in their 
faces, that they rather fancied he was laughing 
at them. The magic staff went hopping at his 
179 


A WONDER BOOK 


heels, as Quicksilver quitted the room. When 
left alone, the good old couple spent some little 
time in conversation about the events of the 
evening, and then lay down on the floor, and 
fell fast asleep. They had given up their sleep¬ 
ing-room to the guests, and had no other bed for 
themselves save these planks, which I wish had 
been as soft as their own hearts. 

The old man and his wife were stirring 
betimes, in the morning, and the strangers 
likewise arose with the sun, and made their 
preparations to depart. Philemon hospitably 
entreated them to remain a little longer, until 
Baucis could milk the cow, and bake a cake 
upon the hearth, and, perhaps, find them a few 
fresh eggs for breakfast. The guests, however, 
seemed to think it better to accomplish a good 
part of their journey before the heat of the day 
should come on. They, therefore, persisted in 
setting out immediately, but asked Philemon 
and Baucis to walk forth with them a short dis¬ 
tance, and show them the road which they were 
to take. 

So they all four issued from the cottage, chat¬ 
ting together like old friends. It was very re¬ 
markable, indeed, how familiar the old couple 
insensibly grew with the elder traveller, and how 
their good and simple spirits melted into his, 
even as two drops of water would melt into the 
illimitable ocean. And as for Quicksilver, with 
180 


*:■ 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 

his keen, quick, laughing wits, he appeared to 
discover every little thought that but peeped into 
their minds, before they suspected it themselves. 
They sometimes wished, it is true, that he had 
not been quite so quick witted, and also that he 
would fling away his staff, which looked so mys¬ 
teriously mischievous, with the snakes always 
writhing about it. But then, again, Quicksil¬ 
ver showed himself so very good humored, that 
they would have been rejoiced to keep him in 
their cottage, staff, snakes, and all, every day, 
and the whole day long. 

“Ah me! Welladay!” exclaimed Phile¬ 
mon, when they had walked a little way from 
their door. “If our neighbors only knew what 
a blessed thing it is to show hospitality to stran¬ 
gers, they would tie up all their dogs, and never 
allow their children to fling another stone.’* 

“ It is a sin and shame for them to behave 
so, — that it is ! ” cried good old Baucis vehe¬ 
mently. “ And I mean to go this very day, and 
tell some of them what naughty people they are!” 

“ I fear,” remarked Quicksilver, slyly smiling, 
“ that you will find none of them at home.” 

The elder traveller’s brow, just then, assumed 
such a grave, stern, and awful grandeur, yet se¬ 
rene withal, that neither Baucis nor Philemon 
dared to speak a word. They gazed reverently 
into his face, as if they had been gazing at the 
sky. 

181 


A WONDER BOOK 


“ When men do not feel towards the hum¬ 
blest stranger as if he were a brother,’' said the 
traveller, in tones so deep that they sounded 
like those of an organ, “ they are unworthy to 
exist on earth, which was created as the abode 
of a great human brotherhood ! ” 

“ And, by the bye, my dear old people,” cried 
Quicksilver, with the liveliest look of fun and 
mischief in his eyes, “ where is this same village 
that you talk about ? On which side of us does 
it lie ? Methinks I do not see it hereabouts.” 

Philemon and his wife turned towards the 
valley, where, at sunset, only the day before, 
they had seen the meadows, the houses, the gar¬ 
dens, the clumps of trees, the wide, green-mar¬ 
gined street with children playing in it, and all 
the tokens of business, enjoyment, and prosper¬ 
ity. But what was their astonishment! There 
was no longer any appearance of a village ! 
Even the fertile vale, in the hollow of which it 
lay, had ceased to have existence. In its stead 
they beheld the broad, blue surface of a lake, 
which filled the great basin of the valley from 
brim to brim, and reflected the surrounding hills 
in its bosom with as tranquil an image as if it 
had been there ever since the creation of the 
world. For an instant, the lake remained per¬ 
fectly smooth. Then, a little breeze sprang up, 
and caused the water to dance, glitter, and spar¬ 
kle in the early sunbeams, and to dash, with a 
182 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 

pleasant rippling murmur, against the hither 
shore. 

The lake seemed so strangely familiar, that 
the old couple were greatly perplexed, and felt 
as if they could only have been dreaming about 
a village having lain there. But, the next mo¬ 
ment, they remembered the vanished dwellings, 
and the faces and characters of the inhabitants, 
far too distinctly for a dream. The village had 
been there yesterday, and now was gone ! 

“ Alas ! ** cried these kind-hearted old people, 
“ what has become of our poor neighbors ? ** 

“ They exist no longer as men and women/* 
said the elder traveller, in his grand and deep 
voice, while a roll of thunder seemed to echo 
it at a distance. “ There was neither use nor 
beauty in such a life as theirs ; for they never 
softened or sweetened the hard lot of mortality 
by the exercise of kindly affections between man 
and man. They retained no image of the bet¬ 
ter life in their bosoms ; therefore the lake, that 
was of old, has spread itself forth again, to re¬ 
flect the sky ! ’* 

“And as for those foolish people/* said Quick¬ 
silver, with his mischievous smile, “ they are all 
transformed to fishes. There needed but little 
change, for they were already a scaly set of ras¬ 
cals, and the coldest-blooded beings in existence. 
So, kind Mother Baucis, whenever you or your 
husband have an appetite for a dish of broiled 

183 


A WONDER BOOK 


trout, he can throw in a line, and pull out half 
a dozen of your old neighbors ! ” 

“ Ah,” cried Baucis, shuddering, “ I would 
not, for the world, put one of them on the grid¬ 
iron ! ” 

“No,” added Philemon, making a wry face, 
“ we could never relish them ! ” 

“ As for you, good Philemon,” continued the 
elder traveller, — “ and you, kind Baucis, — 
you, with your scanty means, have mingled so 
much heartfelt hospitality with your entertain¬ 
ment of the homeless stranger, that the milk 
became an inexhaustible fount of nectar, and the 
brown loaf and the honey were ambrosia. Thus 
the divinities have feasted, at your board, off 
the same viands that supply their banquets on 
Olympus. You have done well, my dear old 
friends. Wherefore, request whatever favor you 
have most at heart, and it is granted.” 

Philemon and Baucis looked at one another, 
and then, — I know not which of the two it was 
who spoke, but that one uttered the desire of 
both their hearts. 

“ Let us live together, while we live, and leave 
the world at the same instant, when we die ! 
For we have always loved one another! ” 

“ Be it so ! ” replied the stranger, with ma¬ 
jestic kindness. “ Now, look towards your cot¬ 
tage ! ” 

They did so. But what was their surprise on 
184 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


beholding a tall edifice of white marble, with 
a wide-open portal, occupying the spot where 
their humble residence had so lately stood! 

“ There is your home,” said the stranger, be¬ 
neficently smiling on them both. “ Exercise 
your hospitality in yonder palace as freely as in 
the poor hovel to which you welcomed us last 
evening.” 

The old folks fell on their knees to thank 
him; but behold ! neither he nor Quicksilver 
was there. 

So Philemon and Baucis took up their resi¬ 
dence in the marble palace, and spent their time, 
with vast satisfaction to themselves, in making 
everybody jolly and comfortable who happened 
to pass that way. The milk pitcher, I must not 
forget to say, retained its marvellous quality of 
being never empty, when it was desirable to have 
it full. Whenever an honest, good-humored, 
and free-hearted guest took a draught from this 
pitcher, he invariably found it the sweetest and 
most invigorating fluid that ever ran down his 
throat. But, if a cross and disagreeable cur¬ 
mudgeon happened to sip, he was pretty certain 
to twist his visage into a hard knot, and pro¬ 
nounce it a pitcher of sour milk ! 

Thus the old couple lived in their palace a 
great, great while, and grew older and older, and 
very old indeed. At length, however, there 
came a summer morning when Philemon and 
185 


A WONDER BOOK 


Baucis failed to make their appearance, as on 
other mornings, with one hospitable smile over¬ 
spreading both their pleasant faces, to invite the 
guests of over-night to breakfast. The guests 
searched everywhere, from top to bottom of the 
spacious palace, and all to no purpose. But, 
after a great deal of perplexity, they espied, in 
front of the portal, two venerable trees, which 
nobody could remember to have seen there the 
day before. Yet there they stood, with their 
roots fastened deep into the soil, and a huge 
breadth of foliage overshadowing the whole 
front of the edifice. One was an oak, and the 
other a linden tree. Their boughs — it was 
strange and beautiful to see — were intertwined 
together, and embraced one another, so that each 
tree seemed to live in the other tree’s bosom 
much more than in its own. 

While the guests were marvelling how these 
trees, that must have required at least a century 
to grow, could have come to be so tall and ven¬ 
erable in a single night, a breeze sprang up, and 
set their intermingled boughs astir. And then 
there was a deep, broad murmur in the air, as if 
the two mysterious trees were speaking. 

“ I am old Philemon ! ” murmured the oak. 

“ I am old Baucis ! ” murmured the linden- 
tree. 

But, as the breeze grew stronger, the trees 
both spoke at once, — “ Philemon ! Baucis! 

186 


THE MIRACULOUS PITCHER 


Baucis ! Philemon ! ” — as if one were both 
and both were one, and talking together in 
the depths of their mutual heart. It was plain 
enough to perceive that the good old couple 
had renewed their age, and were now to spend 
a quiet and delightful hundred years or so, Phi¬ 
lemon as an oak, and Baucis as a linden tree. 
And O, what a hospitable shade did they fling 
around them! Whenever a wayfarer paused 
beneath it, he heard a pleasant whisper of the 
leaves above his head, and wondered how the 
sound should so much resemble words like 
these: — 

“Welcome, welcome, dear traveller, wel¬ 
come ! ” 

And some kind soul, that knew what would 
have pleased old Baucis and old Philemon best, 
built a circular seat around both their trunks, 
where, for a great while afterwards, the weary, 
and the hungry, and the thirsty used to repose 
themselves, and quaff milk abundantly out of 
the miraculous pitcher. 

And I wish, for all our sakes, that we had the 
pitcher here now! 

187 


THE HILLSIDE 


AFTER THE STORY 


H OW much did the pitcher hold ? ” asked 
Sweet Fern. 

“ It did not hold quite a quart,” 
answered the student; “ but you might keep 
pouring milk out of it, till you should fill a 
hogshead, if you pleased. The truth is, it would 
run on forever, and not be dry even at midsum¬ 
mer,— which is more than can be said of yon¬ 
der rill, that goes babbling down the hillside.” 

“ And what has become of the pitcher now ? ” 
inquired the little boy. 

“ It was broken, I am sorry to say, about 
twenty-five thousand years ago,” replied Cousin 
Eustace. cc The people mended it as well as 
they could, but, though it would hold milk pretty 
well, it was never afterwards known to fill itself 
of its own accord. So, you see, it was no better 
than any other cracked earthen pitcher.” 

“ What a pity ! ” cried all the children at 
once. 

The respectable dog Ben had accompanied 
the party, as did likewise a half-grown New¬ 
foundland puppy, who went by the name of 
188 


THE HILLSIDE 


Bruin, because he was just as black as a bear. 
Ben, being elderly, and of very circumspect hab¬ 
its, was respectfully requested, by Cousin Eus¬ 
tace, to stay behind with the four little children, 
in order to keep them out of mischief. As for 
black Bruin, who was himself nothing but a 
child, the student thought it best to take him 
along, lest, in his rude play with the other chil¬ 
dren, he should trip them up, and send them 
rolling and tumbling down the hill. Advising 
Cowslip, Sweet Fern, Dandelion, and Squash- 
Blossom to sit pretty still, in the spot where he 
left them, the student, with Primrose and the 
elder children, began to ascend, and were soon 
out of sight among the trees. 

189 


THE CHINLERA 


BALD-SUMMIT 


Introductory to The Chirruera 


PWARD, along the steep and wooded 



hillside, went Eustace Bright and his 


companions. The trees were not yet 
in full leaf, but had budded forth sufficiently 
to throw an airy shadow, while the sunshine 
filled them with green light. There were moss- 
grown rocks, half hidden among the old, brown, 
fallen leaves; there were rotten tree-trunks, 
lying at full length where they had long ago 
fallen; there were decayed boughs, that had 
been shaken down by the wintry gales, and were 
scattered everywhere about. But still, though 
•these things looked so aged, the aspect of the 
wood was that of the newest life ; for, whichever 
way you turned your eyes, something fresh and 
green was springing forth, so as to be ready for 
the summer. 

At last, the young people reached the upper 
verge of the wood, and found themselves almost 
at the summit of the hill. It was not a peak, 
nor a great round ball, but a pretty wide plain. 


190 


BALD-SUMMIT 


or table-land, with a house and barn upon it, at 
some distance. That house was the home of 
a solitary family; and oftentimes the clouds, 
whence fell the rain, and whence the snowstorm 
drifted down into the valley, hung lower than 
this bleak and lonely dwelling-place. 

On the highest point of the hill was a heap 
of stones, in the centre of which was stuck a 
long pole, with a little flag fluttering at the end 
of it. Eustace led the children thither, and bade 
them look around, and see how large a tract 
of our beautiful world they could take in at a 
glance. And their eyes grew wider as they 
looked. 

Monument Mountain, to the southward, was 
still in the centre of the scene, but seemed to 
have sunk and subsided, so that it was now but 
an undistinguished member of a large family 
of hills. Beyond it, the Taconic range looked 
higher and bulkier than before. Our pretty lake 
was seen, with all its little bays and inlets; and 
not that alone, but two or three new lakes were 
opening their blue eyes to the sun. Several 
white villages, each with its steeple, were scat¬ 
tered about in the distance. There were so 
many farmhouses, with their acres of woodland, 
pasture, mowing-fields, and tillage, that the chil¬ 
dren could hardly make room in their minds 
to receive all these different objects. There, 
too, was Tanglewood, which they had hitherto 
I 9 I 


A WONDER BOOK 


thought such an important apex of the world. 
It now occupied so small a space, that they 
gazed far beyond it, and on either side, and 
searched a good while with all their eyes, before 
discovering whereabout it stood. 

White, fleecy clouds were hanging in the air, 
and threw the dark spots of their shadow here 
and there over the landscape. But, by and by, 
the sunshine was where the shadow had been, 
and the shadow was somewhere else. 

Far to the westward was a range of blue 
mountains, which Eustace Bright told the chil¬ 
dren were the Catskills. Among those misty 
hills, he said, was a spot where some old Dutch¬ 
men were playing an everlasting game of nine¬ 
pins, and where an idle fellow, whose name was 
Rip Van Winkle, had fallen asleep, and slept 
twenty years at a stretch. The children eagerly 
besought Eustace to tell them all about this 
wonderful affair. But the student replied that 
the story had been told once already, and bet¬ 
ter than it ever could be told again ; and that 
nobody would have a right to alter a word 
of it, until it should have grown as old as 
The Gorgon’s Head, and The Three Golden 
Apples, and the rest of those miraculous le¬ 
gends. 

“ At least,” said Periwinkle, “ while we rest 
ourselves here, and are looking about us, you 
can tell us another of your own stories.” 

192 


BALD-SUMMIT 


<c Yes, Cousin Eustace,” cried Primrose, “I 
advise you to tell us a story here. Take some 
lofty subject or other, and see if your imagina¬ 
tion will not come up to it. Perhaps the moun¬ 
tain air may make you poetical, for once. And 
no matter how strange and wonderful the story 
may be, now that we are up among the clouds, 
we can believe anything.” 

“ Can you believe,” asked Eustace, “ that 
there was once a winged horse ? ” 

“ Yes,” said saucy Primrose; “but I am 
afraid you will never be able to catch him.” 

“For that matter, Primrose,” rejoined the 
student, “ I might possibly catch Pegasus, and 
get upon his back, too, as well as a dozen other 
fellows that I know of. At any rate, here is a 
story about him ; and, of all places in the world, 
it ought certainly to be told upon a mountain- 
top.” 

So, sitting on the pile of stones, while the 
children clustered themselves at its base, Eus¬ 
tace fixed his eyes on a white cloud that was 
sailing by, and began as follows. 

193 


THE CHIMiERA 


O NCE, in the old, old times (for all the 
strange things which I tell you about 
happened long before anybody can re¬ 
member), a fountain gushed out of a hillside, 
in the marvellous land of Greece. And, for 
aught I know, after so many thousand years, it 
is still gushing out of the very selfsame spot. 
At any rate, there was the pleasant fountain, 
welling freshly forth and sparkling adown the 
hillside in the golden sunset, when a handsome 
young man named Bellerophon drew near its 
margin. In his hand he held a bridle, studded 
with brilliant gems and adorned with a golden 
bit. Seeing an old man, and another of middle 
age, and a little boy, near the fountain, and like¬ 
wise a maiden who was dipping up some of the 
water in a pitcher, he paused, and begged that 
he might refresh himself with a draught. 

“ This is very delicious water,” he said to the 
maiden as he rinsed and filled her pitcher, after 
drinking out of it. “ Will you be kind enough 
to tell me whether the fountain has any name ? ” 
“Yes; it is called the Fountain of Pirene,” 
answered the maiden; and then she added, 
“ My grandmother has told me that this clear 
194 


THE CHIM7ERA 


fountain was once a beautiful woman ; and when 
her son was killed by the arrows of the huntress 
Diana, she melted all away into tears. And so 
the water, which you find so cool and sweet, is 
the sorrow of that poor mother’s heart! ” 

“ I should not have dreamed,” observed the 
young stranger, “ that so clear a well-spring, 
with its gush and gurgle, and its cheery dance 
out of the shade into the sunlight, had so much 
as one teardrop in its bosom ! And this, then, 
is Pirene ? I thank you, pretty maiden, for tell¬ 
ing me its name. I have come from a far-away 
country to find this very spot.” 

A middle-aged country fellow (he had driven 
his cow to drink out of the spring) stared hard 
at young Bellerophon, and at the handsome 
bridle which he carried in his hand. 

“ The watercourses must be getting low, 
friend, in your part of the world,” remarked he, 
“if you come so far only to find the Fountain 
of Pirene. But, pray, have you lost a horse ? 
I see you carry the bridle in your hand; and 
a very pretty one it is with that double row 
of bright stones upon it. If the horse was as 
fine as the bridle, you are much to be pitied for 
losing him.” 

“ I have lost no horse,” said Bellerophon, 
with a smile. “ But I happen to be seeking a 
very famous one, which, as wise people have 
informed me, must be found hereabouts, if any- 
195 


A WONDER BOOK 


where. Do you know whether the winged horse 
Pegasus still haunts the Fountain of Pirene, as 
he used to do in your forefathers' days ? ” 

But then the country fellow laughed. 

Some of you, my little friends, have probably 
heard that this Pegasus was a snow-white steed, 
with beautiful silvery wings, who spent most 
of his time on the summit of Mount Helicon. 
He was as wild, and as swift, and as buoyant, 
in his flight through the air, as any eagle that 
ever soared into the clouds. There was nothing 
else like him in the world. He had no mate ; 
he never had been backed or bridled by a mas¬ 
ter ; and, for many a long year, he led a soli¬ 
tary and a happy life. 

O, how fine a thing it is to be a winged 
horse! Sleeping at night, as he did, on a lofty 
mountain-top, and passing the greater part of 
the day in the air, Pegasus seemed hardly to 
be a creature of the earth. Whenever he was 
seen, up very high above people's heads, with 
the sunshine on his silvery wings, you would 
have thought that he belonged to the sky, and 
that, skimming a little too low, he had got 
astray among our mists and vapors, and was 
seeking his way back again. It was very pretty 
to behold him plunge into the fleecy bosom of 
a bright cloud, and be lost in it, for a moment 
or two, and then break forth from the other 
side. Or, in a sullen rain-storm, when there 
196 


THE CHIMERA 


was a gray pavement of clouds over the whole 
sky, it would sometimes happen that the winged 
horse descended right through it, and the glad 
light of the upper region would gleam after him. 
In another instant, it is true, both Pegasus and 
the pleasant light would be gone away together. 
But any one that was fortunate enough to see 
this wondrous spectacle felt cheerful the whole 
day afterwards, and as much longer as the storm 
lasted. 

In the summer-time, and in the beautifullest 
of weather, Pegasus often alighted on the solid 
earth, and, closing his silvery wings, would gal¬ 
lop over hill and dale for pastime, as fleetly as 
the wind. Oftener than in any other place, he 
had been seen near the Fountain of Pirene, 
drinking the delicious water, or rolling himself 
upon the soft grass of the margin. Sometimes, 
too (but Pegasus was very dainty in his food), 
he would crop a few of the clover blossoms that 
happened to be sweetest. 

To the Fountain of Pirene, therefore, peo¬ 
ple’s great-grandfathers had been in the habit 
of going (as long as they were youthful, and 
retained their faith in winged horses), in hopes 
of getting a glimpse at the beautiful Pegasus. 
But, of late years, he had been very seldom 
seen. Indeed, there were many of the country 
folks, dwelling within half an hour’s walk of 
the fountain, who had never beheld Pegasus, 
197 


A WONDER BOOK 


and did not believe that there was any such 
creature in existence. The country fellow to 
whom Bellerophon was speaking chanced to be 
one of those incredulous persons. 

And that was the reason why he laughed. 

“ Pegasus, indeed ! ” cried he, turning up his 
nose as high as such a flat nose could be turned 
up, — “ Pegasus, indeed! A winged horse, 
truly ! Why, friend, are you in your senses ? 
Of what use would wings be to a horse ? Could 
he drag the plough so well, think you? To 
be sure, there might be a little saving in the 
expense of shoes; but then, how would a man 
like to see his horse flying out of the stable 
window ? — yes, or whisking him up above the 
clouds, when he only wanted to ride to mill ? 
No, no ! I don't believe in Pegasus. There 
never was such a ridiculous kind of a horse-fowl 
made! ” 

“I have some reason to think otherwise," 
said Bellerophon quietly. 

And then he turned to an old, gray man, 
who was leaning on a staff, and listening very 
attentively, with his head stretched forward and 
one hand at his ear, because for the last twenty 
years he had been getting rather deaf. 

“ And what say you, venerable sir ? ” inquired 
he. “ In your younger days, I should imagine, 
you must frequently have seen the winged 
steed! ” 


198 


THE CHIMERA 


“ Ah, young stranger, my memory is very 
poor ! ” said the aged man. “ When I was a 
lad, if I remember rightly, I used to believe 
there was such a horse, and so did everybody 
else. But, nowadays, I hardly know what to 
think, and very seldom think about the winged 
horse at all. If I ever saw the creature, it was 
a long, long while ago; and, to tell you the 
truth, I doubt whether I ever did see him. One 
day, to be sure, when I was quite a youth, I re¬ 
member seeing some hoof-tramps round about 
the brink of the fountain. Pegasus might have 
made those hoof-marks; and so might some 
other horse.” 

“And have you never seen him, my fair 
maiden ? ” asked Bellerophon of the girl, who 
stood with the pitcher on her head, while this 
talk went on. “ You certainly could see Pega¬ 
sus, if anybody can, for your eyes are very 
bright.” 

“ Once I thought I saw him,” replied the 
maiden, with a smile and a blush. “ It was 
either Pegasus, or a large white bird, a very 
great way up in the air. And one other time, 
as I was coming to the fountain with my 
pitcher, I heard a neigh. O, such a brisk and 
melodious neigh as that was ! My very heart 
leaped with delight at the sound. But it star¬ 
tled me, nevertheless ; so that I ran home with¬ 
out filling my pitcher.” 

199 


A WONDER BOOK 


“ That was truly a pity ! ” said Bellerophon. 

And he turned to the child, whom I men¬ 
tioned at the beginning of the story, and who 
was gazing at him, as children are apt to gaze 
at strangers, with his rosy mouth wide open. 

“ Well, my little fellow,” cried Bellerophon, 
playfully pulling one of his curls, cc I suppose 
you have often seen the winged horse.” 

“ That I have,” answered the child, very 
readily. “ I saw him yesterday, and many times 
before.” 

“ You are a fine little man ! ” said Bellerophon, 
drawing the child closer to him. “ Come, tell 
me all about it.” 

“ Why,” replied the child, “ I often come 
here to sail little boats in the fountain, and to 
gather pretty pebbles out of its basin. And 
sometimes, when I look down into the water, I 
see the image of the winged horse, in the picture 
of the sky that is there. I wish he would come 
down and take me on his back, and let me ride 
him up to the moon ! But, if I so much as stir 
to look at him, he flies far away out of sight.” 

And Bellerophon put his faith in the child, 
who had seen the image of Pegasus in the water, 
and in the maiden, who had heard him neigh 
so melodiously, rather than in the middle-aged 
clown, who believed only in cart horses, or in 
the old man, who had forgotten the beautiful 
things of his youth. 


200 


THE CHIMERA 


Therefore he haunted about the Fountain of 
Pirene for a great many days afterwards. He 
kept continually on the watch, looking upward 
at the sky or else down into the water, hoping 
forever that he should see either the reflected 
image of the winged horse or the marvellous 
reality. He held the bridle, with its bright gems 
and golden bit, always ready in his hand. The 
rustic people, who dwelt in the neighborhood 
and drove their cattle to the fountain to drink, 
would often laugh at poor Bellerophon, and 
sometimes take him pretty severely to task. 
They told him that an able-bodied young man, 
like himself, ought to have better business than 
to be wasting his time in such an idle pursuit. 
They offered to sell him a horse, if he wanted 
one ; and when Bellerophon declined the pur¬ 
chase, they tried to drive a bargain with him for 
his fine bridle. 

Even the country boys thought him so very 
foolish, that they used to have a great deal of 
sport about him, and were rude enough not to 
care a fig, although Bellerophon saw and heard 
it. One little urchin, for example, would play 
Pegasus, and cut the oddest imaginable capers, 
by way of flying ; while one of his schoolfellows 
would scamper after him, holding forth a twist 
of bulrushes, which was intended to represent 
Bellerophon’s ornamental bridle. But the gentle 
child, who had seen the picture of Pegasus in 
201 


A WONDER BOOK 


the water, comforted the young stranger more 
than all the naughty boys could torment him. 
The dear little fellow, in his play-hours, often 
sat down beside him, and, without speaking a 
word, would look down into the fountain and up 
towards the sky, with so innocent a faith that 
Bellerophon could not help feeling encouraged. 

Now you will, perhaps, wish to be told why 
it was that Bellerophon had undertaken to catch 
the winged horse. And we shall find no better 
opportunity to speak about this matter than 
while he is waiting for Pegasus to appear. 

If I were to relate the whole of Bellerophon’s 
previous adventures, they might easily grow 
into a very long story. It will be quite enough 
to say that, in a certain country of Asia, a ter¬ 
rible monster, called a Chimaera, had made its 
appearance, and was doing more mischief than 
could be talked about between now and sunset. 
According to the best accounts which I have 
been able to obtain, this Chimaera was nearly, 
if not quite, the ugliest and most poisonous 
creature, and the strangest and unaccountablest, 
and the hardest to fight with, and the most diffi¬ 
cult to run away from, that ever came out of the 
earth’s inside. It had a tail like a boa constric¬ 
tor ; its body was like I do not care what; and 
it had three separate heads, one of which was 
a lion’s, the second a goat’s, and the third an 
abominably great snake’s. And a hot blast of 
202 


THE CHIJVLERA 


fire came flaming out of each of its three mouths! 
Being an earthly monster, I doubt whether it 
had any wings; but, wings or no, it ran like a 
goat and a lion, and wriggled along like a ser¬ 
pent, and thus contrived to make about as much 
speed as all the three together. 

O, the mischief, and mischief, and mischief 
that this naughty creature did ! With its flaming 
breath it could set a forest on fire, or burn up a 
field of grain, or, for that matter, a village, with 
all its fences and houses. It laid waste the whole 
country round about, and used to eat up people 
and animals alive, and cook them afterwards in 
the burning oven of its stomach. Mercy on us, 
little children, I hope neither you nor I will 
ever happen to meet a Chimaera ! 

While the hateful beast (if a beast we can any¬ 
wise call it) was doing all these horrible things, 
it so chanced that Bellerophon came to that part 
of the world, on a visit to the king. The king’s 
name was Iobates, and Lycia was the country 
which he ruled over. Bellerophon was one of 
the bravest youths in the world, and desired 
nothing so much as to do some valiant and 
beneficent deed, such as would make all man¬ 
kind admire and love him. In those days, the 
only way for a young man to distinguish him¬ 
self was by fighting battles, either with the ene¬ 
mies of his country, or with wicked giants, or 
with troublesome dragons, or with wild beasts, 
203 


A WONDER BOOK 


when he could find nothing more dangerous to 
encounter. King lobates, perceiving the cour¬ 
age of his youthful visitor, proposed to him to 
go and fight the Chimaera, which everybody else 
was afraid of, and which, unless it should be 
soon killed, was likely to convert Lycia into a 
desert. Bellerophon hesitated not a moment, 
but assured the king that he would either slay 
this dreaded Chimaera or perish in the attempt. 

But, in the first place, as the monster was so 
prodigiously swift, he bethought himself that he 
should never win the victory by fighting on foot. 
The wisest thing he could do, therefore, was to 
get the very best and fleetest horse that could 
anywhere be found. And what other horse, in 
all the world, was half so fleet as the marvellous 
horse Pegasus, who had wings as well as legs, 
and was even more active in the air than on the 
earth? To be sure, a great many people de¬ 
nied that there was any such horse with wings, 
and said that the stories about him were all 
poetry and nonsense. But, wonderful as it ap¬ 
peared, Bellerophon believed that Pegasus was a 
real steed, and hoped that he himself might be 
fortunate enough to find him; and, once fairly 
mounted on his back, he would be able to fight 
the Chimaera at better advantage. 

And this was the purpose with which he had 
travelled from Lycia to Greece, and had brought 
the beautifully ornamented bridle in his hand. 

204 


THE CHIJVLERA 


It was an enchanted bridle. If he could only 
succeed in putting the golden bit into the mouth 
of Pegasus, the winged horse would be submis¬ 
sive, and would own Bellerophon for his master, 
and fly whithersoever he might choose to turn 
the rein. 

But, indeed, it was a weary and anxious time, 
while Bellerophon waited and waited for Pega¬ 
sus, in hopes that he would come and drink 
at the Fountain of Pirene. He was afraid lest 
King Iobates should imagine that he had fled 
from the Chimaera. It pained him, too, to think 
how much mischief the monster was doing, while 
he himself, instead of fighting with it, was com¬ 
pelled to sit idly poring over the bright waters 
of Pirene, as they gushed out of the sparkling 
sand. And as Pegasus came thither so seldom 
in these latter years, and scarcely alighted there 
more than once in a lifetime, Bellerophon feared 
that he might grow an old man, and have no 
strength left in his arms nor courage in his heart, 
before the winged horse would appear. O, 
how heavily passes the time, while an adven¬ 
turous youth is yearning to do his part in life, 
and to gather in the harvest of his renown ! 
H ow hard a lesson it is to wait! Our life is 
brief, and how much of it is spent in teaching 
us only this ! 

Well was it for Bellerophon that the gentle 
child had grown so fond of him, and was never 
205 


A WONDER BOOK 


weary of keeping him company. Every morn¬ 
ing the child gave him a new hope to put in his 
bosom, instead of yesterday’s withered one. 

“ Dear Bellerophon,” he would cry, looking 
up hopefully into his face, “ I think we shall 
see Pegasus to-day ! ” 

And at length, if it had not been for the lit¬ 
tle boy’s unwavering faith, Bellerophon would 
have give*n up all hope, and would have gone 
back to Lycia, and have done his best to slay 
the Chimaera without the help of the winged 
horse. And in that case poor Bellerophon 
would at least have been terribly scorched by 
the creature’s breath, and would most probably 
have been killed and devoured. Nobody should 
ever try to fight an earth-born Chimaera, unless 
he can first get upon the back of an aerial steed. 

One morning the child spoke to Bellerophon 
even more hopefully than usual. 

“ Dear, dear Bellerophon,” cried he, “ I know 
not why it is, but I feel as if we should certainly 
see Pegasus to-day ! ” 

And all that day he would not stir a step 
from Bellerophon’s side ; so they ate a crust of 
bread together, and drank some of the water of 
the fountain. In the afternoon there they sat, 
and Bellerophon had thrown his arm around 
the child, who likewise had put one of his little 
hands into Bellerophon’s. The latter was lost 
in his own thoughts, and was fixing his eyes 
206 


THE CHIMERA 


vacantly on the trunks of the trees that over¬ 
shadowed the fountain, and on the grapevines 
that clambered up among their branches. But 
the gentle child was gazing down into the water; 
he was grieved, for Bellerophon’s sake, that the 
hope of another day should be deceived, like so 
many before it; and two or three quiet tear¬ 
drops fell from his eyes, and mingled with what 
were said to be the many tears of Pirene, when 
she wept for her slain children. 

But, when he least thought of it, Bellerophon 
felt the pressure of the child’s little hand, and 
heard a soft, almost breathless, whisper. 

“ See there, dear Bellerophon ! There is an 
image in the water ! ” 

The young man looked down into the dim¬ 
pling mirror of the fountain, and saw what he 
took to be the reflection of a bird which seemed 
to be flying at a great height in the air, with a 
gleam of sunshine on its snowy or silvery wings. 

“ What a splendid bird it must be ! ” said he. 
u And how very large it looks, though it must 
really be flying higher than the clouds ! ” 

“ It makes me tremble ! ” whispered the child. 
“ I am afraid to look up into the air ! It is 
very beautiful, and yet I dare only look at its 
image in the water. Dear Bellerophon, do you 
not see that it is no bird ? It is the winged 
horse Pegasus ! ” 

Bellerophon’s heart began to throb ! He 
207 


A WONDER BOOK 


gazed keenly upward, but could not see the 
winged creature, whether bird or horse; because, 
just then, it had plunged into the fleecy depths 
of a summer cloud. It was but a moment, how¬ 
ever, before the object reappeared, sinking lightly 
down out of the cloud, although still at a vast 
distance from the earth. Bellerophon caught 
the child in his arms, and shrank back with him, 
so that they were both hidden among the thick 
shrubbery which grew all around the fountain. 
Not that he was afraid of any harm, but he 
dreaded lest, if Pegasus caught a glimpse of 
them, he would fly far away, and alight in some 
inaccessible mountain-top. For it was really 
the winged horse. After they had expected him 
so long, he was coming to quench his thirst with 
the water of Pirene. 

Nearer and nearer came the aerial wonder, 
flying in great circles, as you may have seen a 
dove when about to alight. Downward came 
Pegasus, in those wide, sweeping circles, which 
grew narrower, and narrower still, as he gradu¬ 
ally approached the earth. The nigher the view 
of him, the more beautiful he was, and the more 
marvellous the sweep of his silvery wings. At 
last, with so light a pressure as hardly to bend 
the grass about the fountain, or imprint a hoof- 
tramp in the sand of its margin, he alighted, 
and, stooping his wild head, began to drink. 
He drew in the water, with long and pleasant 
208 


THE CHIMERA 


sighs, and tranquil pauses of enjoyment; and 
then another draught, and another, and another. 
For, nowhere in the world, or up among the 
clouds, did Pegasus love any water as he loved 
this of Pirene. And when his thirst was slaked, 
he cropped a few of the honey blossoms of the 
clover, delicately tasting them, but not caring 
to make a hearty meal, because the herbage 
just beneath the clouds, on the lofty sides of 
Mount Helicon, suited his palate better than 
this ordinary grass. 

After thus drinking to his heart's content, 
and in his dainty fashion condescending to take 
a little food, the winged horse began to caper 
to and fro, and dance as it were, out of mere 
idleness and sport. There never was a more 
playful creature made than this very Pegasus. 
So there he frisked, in a way that it delights 
me to think about, fluttering his great wings 
as lightly as ever did a linnet, and running lit¬ 
tle races, half on earth and half in air, and 
which I know not whether to call a flight or 
a gallop. When a creature is perfectly able 
to fly, he sometimes chooses to run, just for 
the pastime of the thing ; and so did Pegasus, 
although it cost him some little trouble to keep 
his hoofs so near the ground. Bellerophon, 
meanwhile, holding the child's hand, peeped 
forth from the shrubbery, and thought that 
never was any sight so beautiful as this, nor 
' 209 


A WONDER BOOK 


ever a horse’s eyes so wild and spirited as those 
of Pegasus. It seemed a sin to think of bri¬ 
dling him and riding on his back. 

Once or twice Pegasus stopped, and snuffed 
the air, pricking up his ears, tossing his head 
and turning it on all sides, as if he partly sus¬ 
pected some mischief or other. Seeing nothing, 
however, and hearing no sound, he soon began 
his antics again. 

At length, — not that he was weary, but only 
idle and luxurious, — Pegasus folded his wings 
and lay down on the soft green turf. But, be¬ 
ing too full of aerial life to remain quiet for 
many moments together, he soon rolled over 
on his back, with his four slender legs in the air. 
It was beautiful to see him, this one solitary 
creature, whose mate had never been created, 
but who needed no companion, and, living a 
great many hundred years, was as happy as the 
centuries were long. The more he did such 
things as mortal horses are accustomed to do, 
the less earthly and the more wonderful he 
seemed. Bellerophon and the child almost held 
their breath, partly from a delightful awe, but 
still more because they dreaded lest the slight¬ 
est stir or murmur should send him up, with 
the speed of an arrow-flight, into the farthest 
blue of the sky. 

Finally, when he had had enough of rolling 
over and over, Pegasus turned himself about, 
210 


THE CHIMERA 


and indolently, like any other horse, put out 
his fore legs in order to rise from the ground; 
and Bellerophon, who had guessed that he would 
do so, darted suddenly from the thicket, and 
leaped astride of his back. 

Yes, there he sat, on the back of the winged 
horse ! 

But what a bound did Pegasus make when, 
for the first time, he felt the weight of a mortal 
man upon his loins ! A bound, indeed ! Before 
he had time to draw a breath, Bellerophon found 
himself five hundred feet aloft, and still shoot¬ 
ing upward, while the winged horse snorted and 
trembled with terror and anger. Upward he 
went, up, up, up, until he plunged into the cold 
misty bosom of a cloud, at which, only a little 
while before, Bellerophon had been gazing, and 
fancying it a very pleasant spot. Then again, 
out of the heart of the cloud, Pegasus shot down 
like a thunderbolt, as if he meant to dash both 
himself and his rider headlong against a rock. 
Then he went through about a thousand of the 
wildest caprioles that had ever been performed 
either by a bird or a horse. 

I cannot tell you half that he did. He 
skimmed straight forward, and sideways, and 
backward. He reared himself erect, with his 
fore legs on a wreath of mist and his hind legs 
on nothing at all. He flung out his heels be¬ 
hind, and put down his head between his legs, 
211 


A WONDER BOOK 


with his wings pointing right upward. At about 
two miles’ height above the earth, he turned a 
somerset, so that Bellerophon’s heels were where 
his head should have been, and he seemed to 
look down into the sky, instead of up. He 
twisted his head about, and, looking Bellerophon 
in the face, with fire flashing from his eyes, 
made a terrible attempt to bite him. He flut¬ 
tered his pinions so wildly that one of the silver 
feathers was shaken out, and, floating earthward, 
was picked up by the child, who kept it as long 
as he lived, in memory of Pegasus and Bellero¬ 
phon. 

But the latter (who, as you may judge, was 
as good a horseman as ever galloped) had been 
watching his opportunity, and at last clapped 
the golden bit of the enchanted bridle between 
the winged steed’s jaws. No sooner was this 
done, than Pegasus became as manageable as if 
he had taken food, all his life, out of Bellero- 
phon’s hand. To speak what I really feel, it was 
almost a sadness to see so wild a creature grow 
suddenly so tame. And Pegasus seemed to 
feel it so, likewise. He looked round to Bel¬ 
lerophon, with the tears in his beautiful eyes, 
instead of the fire that so recently flashed from 
them. But when Bellerophon patted his head, 
and spoke a few authoritative, yet kind and 
soothing words, another look came into the 
eyes of Pegasus ; for he was glad at heart, after 
212 


THE CHIMERA 


so many lonely centuries, to have found a com¬ 
panion and a master. 

Thus it always is with winged horses, and 
with all such wild and solitary creatures. If 
you can catch and overcome them, it is the 
surest way-to win their love. 

While Pegasus had been doing his utmost to 
shake Bellerophon off his back, he had flown a 
very long distance; and they had come within 
sight of a lofty mountain by the time the bit 
was in his mouth. Bellerophon had seen this 
mountain before, and knew it to be Helicon, on 
the summit of which was the winged horse's 
abode. Thither (after looking gently into his 
rider’s face, as if to ask leave) Pegasus now flew, 
and, alighting, waited patiently until Bellero¬ 
phon should please to dismount. The young 
man accordingly leaped from his steed’s back, 
but still held him fast by the bridle. Meeting 
his eyes, however, he was so affected by the 
gentleness of his aspect, and by the thought of 
the free life which Pegasus had heretofore lived, 
that he could not bear to keep him a prisoner, 
if he really desired his liberty. 

Obeying this generous impulse, he slipped 
the enchanted bridle off the head of Pegasus, 
and took the bit from his mouth. 

“ Leave me, Pegasus ! ” said he. “ Either 
leave me, or love me.” 

In an instant the winged horse shot almost 
213 


A WONDER BOOK 


out of sight, soaring straight upward from the 
summit of Mount Helicon. Being long after 
sunset, it was now twilight on the mountain-top, 
and dusky evening over all the country round 
about. But Pegasus flew so high that he over¬ 
took the departed day, and was bathed in the 
upper radiance of the sun. Ascending higher 
and higher, he looked like a bright speck, and 
at last could no longer be seen in the hollow 
waste of the sky. And Bellerophon was afraid 
that he should never behold him more. But, 
while he was lamenting his own folly, the bright 
speck reappeared, and drew nearer and nearer, 
until it descended lower than the sunshine ; and, 
behold, Pegasus had come back ! After this 
trial there was no more fear of the winged horse’s 
making his escape. He and Bellerophon were 
friends, and put loving faith in one another. 

That night they lay down and slept together, 
with Bellerophon’s arm about the neck of Peg¬ 
asus, not as a caution, but for kindness. And 
they awoke at peep of day and bade one an¬ 
other good morning, each in his own language. 

In this manner Bellerophon and the won¬ 
drous steed spent several days, and grew better 
acquainted and fonder of each other all the time. 
They went on long aerial journeys, and some¬ 
times ascended so high that the earth looked 
hardly bigger than — the moon. They visited 
distant countries, and amazed the inhabitants, 
214 


THE CHIMERA 


who thought that the beautiful young man, on 
the back of the winged horse, must have come 
down out of the sky. A thousand miles a day 
was no more than an easy space for the fleet 
Pegasus to pass over. Bellerophon was de¬ 
lighted with this kind of life, and would have 
liked nothing better than to live always in the 
same way, aloft in the clear atmosphere; for it 
was always sunny weather up there, however 
cheerless and rainy it might be in the lower 
region. But he could not forget the horrible 
Chimaera, which he had promised King Iobates 
to slay. So, at last, when he had become well 
accustomed to feats of horsemanship in the air, 
and could manage Pegasus with the least motion 
of his hand, and had taught him to obey his 
voice, he determined to attempt the performance 
of this perilous adventure. 

At daybreak therefore, as soon as he unclosed 
his eyes, he gently pinched the winged horse's 
ear, in order to arouse him. Pegasus imme¬ 
diately started from the ground, and pranced 
about a quarter of a mile aloft, and made a 
grand sweep around the mountain-top, by way 
of showing that he was wide awake, and ready 
for any kind of an excursion. During the 
whole of this little flight, he uttered a loud, 
brisk, and melodious neigh, and finally came 
down at Bellerophon’s side, as lightly as ever 
you saw a sparrow hop upon a twig. 

' 215 


A WONDER BOOK 


“ Well done, dear Pegasus ! well done, my 
sky-skimmer! ” cried Bellerophon, fondly strok¬ 
ing the horse's neck. “ And now, my fleet and 
beautiful friend, we must break our fast. To¬ 
day we are to fight the terrible Chimaera.” 

As soon as they had eaten their morning 
meal and drank some sparkling water from a 
spring called Hippocrene, Pegasus held out his 
head, of his own accord, so that his master might 
put on the bridle. Then, with a great many 
playful leaps and airy caperings, he showed his 
impatience to be gone ; while Bellerophon was 
girding on his sword, and hanging his shield 
about his neck, and preparing himself for battle. 
When everything was ready, the rider mounted, 
and (as was his custom, when going a long dis¬ 
tance) ascended five miles perpendicularly, so 
as the better to see whither he was directing his 
course. He then turned the head of Pegasus 
towards the east, and set out for Lycia. In 
their flight they overtook an eagle, and came 
so nigh him, before he could get out of their 
way, that Bellerophon might easily have caught 
him by the leg. Hastening onward at this rate, 
it was still early in the forenoon when they 
beheld the lofty mountains of Lycia, with their 
deep and shaggy valleys. If Bellerophon had 
been told truly, it was in one of those dismal 
valleys that the hideous Chimaera had taken up 
its abode. 


216 


THE CHIMERA 


Being now so near their journey's end, the 
winged horse gradually descended with his rider; 
and they took advantage of some clouds that 
were floating over the mountain-tops, in order 
to conceal themselves. Hovering on the upper 
surface of a cloud, and peeping over its edge, 
Bellerophon had a pretty distinct view of the 
mountainous part of Lycia, and could look into 
all its shadowy vales at once. At first there 
appeared to be nothing remarkable. It was a 
wild, savage, and rocky tract of high and precip¬ 
itous hills. In the more level part of the coun¬ 
try, there were the ruins of houses that had 
been burnt, and here and there the carcasses of 
dead cattle, strewn about the pastures where they 
had been feeding. 

“ The Chimaera must have done this mis¬ 
chief," thought Bellerophon. “ But where can 
the monster be ? ” 

As I have already said, there was nothing re¬ 
markable to be detected, at first sight, in any 
of the valleys and dells that lay among the pre¬ 
cipitous heights of the mountains. Nothing 
at all; unless, indeed, it were three spires of 
black smoke, which issued from what seemed 
to be the mouth of a cavern, and clambered sul¬ 
lenly into the atmosphere. Before reaching the 
mountain-top, these three black smoke wreaths 
mingled themselves into one. The cavern was 
almost directly beneath the winged horse and 
217 


A WONDER BOOK 


his rider, at the distance of about a thousand 
feet. The smoke, as it crept heavily upward, 
had an ugly, sulphurous, stifling scent, which 
caused Pegasus to snort and Bellerophon to 
sneeze. So disagreeable was it to the marvel¬ 
lous steed (who was accustomed to breathe only 
the purest air), that he waved his wings, and 
shot half a mile out of the range of this offensive 
vapor. 

But, on looking behind him, Bellerophon 
saw something that induced him first to draw 
the bridle, and then to turn Pegasus about. He 
made a sign, which the winged horse under¬ 
stood, and sunk slowly through the air, until 
his hoofs were scarcely more than a man’s 
height above the rocky bottom of the valley. 
In front, as far off as you could throw a stone, 
was the cavern’s mouth, with the three smoke 
wreaths oozing out of it. And what else did 
Bellerophon behold there ? 

There seemed to be a heap of strange and 
terrible creatures curled up within the cavern. 
Their bodies lay so close together that Bellero¬ 
phon could not distinguish them apart; but, 
judging by their heads, one of these creatures 
was a huge snake, the second a fierce lion, and 
the third an ugly goat. The lion and the goat 
were asleep ; the snake was broad awake, and 
kept staring around him with a great pair of fiery 
eyes. But— and this was the most wonderful 
218 


THE CHIMiERA 


part of the matter — the three spires of smoke 
evidently issued from the nostrils of these three 
heads! So strange was the spectacle that, 
though Bellerophon had been all along expect¬ 
ing it, the truth did not immediately occur to 
him, that here was the terrible three-headed 
Chimaera. He had found out the Chimaera’s 
cavern. The snake, the lion, and the goat, as 
he supposed them to be, were not three separate 
creatures, but one monster! 

The wicked, hateful thing ! Slumbering as 
two thirds of it were, it still held, in its abom¬ 
inable claws, the remnant of an unfortunate 
lamb, — or possibly (but I hate to think so) it 
was a dear little boy, — which its three mouths 
had been gnawing, before two of them fell 
asleep! 

All at once Bellerophon started as from a 
dream, and knew it to be the Chimaera. Pega¬ 
sus seemed to know it at the same instant, and 
sent forth a neigh, that sounded like the call of 
a trumpet to battle. At this sound the three 
heads reared themselves erect, and belched out 
great flashes of flame. Before Bellerophon had 
time to consider what to do next, the monster 
flung itself out of the cavern and sprung straight 
towards him, with its immense claws extended, 
and its snaky tail twisting itself venomously be¬ 
hind. If Pegasus had not been as nimble as a 
bird, both he and his rider would have been over- 
219 


A WONDER BOOK 


thrown by the Chimaera’s headlong rush, and 
thus the battle have been ended before it was 
well begun. But the winged horse was not to 
be caught so. In the twinkling of an eye he 
was up aloft, halfway to the clouds, snorting 
with anger. He shuddered, too, not with 
affright, but with utter disgust at the loathsome¬ 
ness of this poisonous thing with three heads. 

The Chimaera, on the other hand, raised it¬ 
self up so as to stand absolutely on the tip-end 
of its tail, with its talons pawing fiercely in the 
air, and its three heads spluttering fire at Peg¬ 
asus and his rider. My stars, how it roared, 
and hissed, and bellowed! Bellerophon, mean¬ 
while, was fitting his shield on his arm, and 
drawing his sword. 

“ Now, my beloved Pegasus/’ he whispered 
in the winged horse’s ear, “ thou must help me 
to slay this insufferable monster ; or else thou 
shalt fly back to thy solitary mountain peak 
without thy friend Bellerophon. For either 
the Chimaera dies, or its three mouths shall 
gnaw this head of mine, which has slumbered 
upon thy neck ! ” 

Pegasus whinnied, and, turning back his head, 
rubbed his nose tenderly against his rider’s cheek. 
It was his way of telling him that, though he had 
wings and was an immortal horse, yet he would 
perish, if it were possible for immortality to per¬ 
ish, rather than leave Bellerophon behind. 

220 


THE CHIMERA 


“ I thank you, Pegasus/’ answered Bellero- 
phon. “ Now, then, let us make a dash at the 
monster! ” 

Uttering these words, he shook the bridle; 
and Pegasus darted down aslant, as swift as the 
flight of an arrow, right towards the Chimaera’s 
threefold head, which all this time was poking 
itself as high as it could into the air. As he came 
within arm’s length, Bellerophon made a cut at 
the monster, but was carried onward by his steed, 
before he could see whether the blow had been 
successful. Pegasus continued his course, but 
soon wheeled round, at about the same distance 
from the Chimaera as before. Bellerophon then 
perceived that he had cut the goat’s head of the 
monster almost off, so that it dangled down¬ 
ward by the skin, and seemed quite dead. 

But, to make amends, the snake’s head and 
the lion’s head had taken all the fierceness of 
the dead one into themselves, and spit flame, 
and hissed, and roared, with a vast deal more 
fury than before. 

“ Never mind, my brave Pegasus! ” cried 
Bellerophon. cc With another stroke like that, 
we will stop either its hissing or its roaring.” 

And again he shook the bridle. Dashing 
aslantwise, as before, the winged horse made 
another arrow-flight towards the Chimaera, -and 
Bellerophon aimed another downright stroke at 
one of the two remaining heads, as he shot by. 

221 


A WONDER BOOK 


But this time neither he nor Pegasus escaped 
so well as at first. With one of its claws, the 
Chimaera had given the young man a deep scratch 
in his shoulder, and had slightly damaged the 
left wing of the flying steed with the other. On 
his part, Bellerophon had mortally wounded the 
lion’s head of the monster, insomuch that it now 
hung downward, with its fire almost extinguished, 
and sending out gasps of thick black smoke. 
The snake’s head, however (which was the only 
one now left), was twice as fierce and venomous 
as ever before. It belched forth shoots of fire 
five hundred yards long, and emitted hisses so 
loud, so harsh, and so ear-piercing, that King 
Iobates heard them, fifty miles off, and trembled 
till the throne shook under him. 

“ Welladay ! ” thought the poor king ; “ the 
Chimaera is certainly coming to devour me ! ” 

Meanwhile Pegasus had again paused in the 
air, and neighed angrily, while sparkles of a pure 
crystal flame darted out of his eyes. How un¬ 
like the lurid fire of the Chimaera ! The aerial 
steed’s spirit was all aroused, and so was that 
of Bellerophon. 

“ Dost thou bleed, my immortal horse ? ” 
cried the young man, caring less for his own 
hurt than for the anguish of this glorious crea¬ 
ture, that ought never to have tasted pain. 
“ The execrable Chimaera shall pay for this 
mischief with his last head ! ” 


222 


THE CHIMERA 


Then he shook the bridle, shouted loudly, 
and guided Pegasus, not aslantwise as before, 
but straight at the monster's hideous front. So 
rapid was the onset, that it seemed but a daz¬ 
zle and a flash before Bellerophon was at close 
gripes with his enemy. 

The Chimaera, by this time, after losing its 
second head, had got into a red-hot passion of 
pain and rampant rage. It so flounced about, 
half on earth and partly in the air, that it was 
impossible to say which element it rested upon. 
It opened its snake-jaws to such an abominable 
width that Pegasus might almost, I was going 
to say, have flown right down its- throat, wings 
outspread, rider and all! At their approach it 
shot out a tremendous blast of its fiery breath, 
and enveloped Bellerophon and his steed in a 
perfect atmosphere of flame, singeing the wings 
of Pegasus, scorching off one whole side of the 
young man’s golden ringlets, and making them 
both far hotter than was comfortable from head 
to foot. 

But this was nothing to what followed. 

When the airy rush of the winged horse had 
brought him within the distance of a hundred 
yards, the Chimaera gave a spring, and flung its 
huge, awkward, venomous, and utterly detesta¬ 
ble carcass right upon poor Pegasus, clung round 
him with might and main, and tied up its snaky 
tail into a knot! Up flew the aerial steed, higher, 
223 


A WONDER BOOK 


higher, higher above the mountain peaks, above 
the clouds, and almost out of sight of the solid 
earth. But still the earth-born monster kept its 
hold, and was borne upward, along with the 
creature of light and air. Bellerophon, mean¬ 
while, turning about, found himself face to face 
with the ugly grimness of the Chimaera’s visage, 
and could only avoid being scorched to death, 
or bitten right in twain, by holding up his shield. 
Over the upper edge of the shield, he looked 
sternly into the savage eyes of the monster. 

But the Chimaera was so mad and wild w T ith 
pain, that it did not guard itself so well as might 
else have been the case. Perhaps, after all, the 
best way to fight a Chimaera is by getting as 
close to it as you can. In its efforts to stick its 
horrible iron claws into its enemy, the creature 
left its own breast quite exposed; and perceiving 
this, Bellerophon thrust his sword up to the hilt 
into its cruel heart. Immediately the snaky tail 
untied its knot. The monster let go its hold 
of Pegasus, and fell from that vast height down¬ 
ward ; while the fire within its bosom, instead 
of being put out, burned fiercer than ever, 
and quickly began to consume the dead carcass. 
Thus it fell out of the sky, all aflame, and (it 
being nightfall before it reached the earth) was 
mistaken for a shooting star or a comet. But 
at early sunrise, some cottagers were going to 
their day’s labor, and saw, to their astonishment, 
224 


THE CHIMERA 


that several acres of ground were strewn with 
black ashes. In the middle of a field, there was 
a heap of whitened bones, a great deal higher 
than a haystack. Nothing else was ever seen 
of the dreadful Chimaera ! 

And when Bellerophon had won the victory, 
he bent forward and kissed Pegasus, while the 
tears stood in his eyes. 

“ Back now, my beloved steed! ” said he. 
“ Back to the Fountain of Pirene ! ” 

Pegasus skimmed through the air, quicker 
than ever he did before, and reached the foun¬ 
tain in a very short time. And there he found 
the old man leaning on his staff, and the coun¬ 
try fellow watering his cow, and the pretty 
maiden filling her pitcher. 

<c I remember now,” quoth the old man, “ I 
saw this winged horse once before, when I was 
quite a lad. But he was ten times handsomer 
in those days.” 

“ I own a cart-horse, worth three of him ! ” 
said the country fellow. “If this pony were 
mine, the first thing I should do would be to 
clip his wings ! ” 

But the poor maiden said nothing, for she 
had always the luck to be afraid at the wrong 
time. So she ran away, and let her pitcher tum¬ 
ble down, and broke it. 

“Where*is the gentle child,” asked Bellero¬ 
phon, “ who used to keep me company, and 
225 


A WONDER BOOK 


never lost his faith, and never was weary of 
gazing into the fountain ? ” 

“ Here am I, dear Bellerophon ! ” said the 
child softly. 

For the little boy had spent day after day 
on the margin of Pirene, waiting for his friend 
to come back; but when he perceived Bellero¬ 
phon descending through the clouds, mounted 
on the winged horse, he had shrunk back into 
the shrubbery. He was a delicate and tender 
child, and dreaded lest the old man and the 
country fellow should see the tears gushing from 
his eyes. 

“ Thou hast won the victory,” said he joy¬ 
fully, running to the knee of Bellerophon, who 
still sat on the back of Pegasus. “ I knew thou 
wouldst.” 

“Yes, dear child!” replied Bellerophon, 
alighting from the winged horse. “ But if thy 
faith had not helped me, I should never have 
waited for Pegasus, and never have gone up 
above the clouds, and never have conquered 
the terrible Chimaera. Thou, my beloved lit¬ 
tle friend, hast done it all. And now let us give 
Pegasus his liberty.” 

So he slipped off the enchanted bridle from 
the head of the marvellous steed. 

“ Be free forevermore, my Pegasus ! ” cried 
he, with a shade of sadness in his tone. “ Be 
as free as thou art fleet ! ” 

226 


THE CHUVLERA 


But Pegasus rested his head on Bellerophon’s 
shoulder, and would not be persuaded to take 
flight. 

“ Well then,” said Bellerophon, caressing the 
airy horse, “ thou shalt be with me, as long as 
thou wilt; and we will go together, forthwith, 
and tell King Iobates that the Chimaera is de¬ 
stroyed.” 

Then Bellerophon embraced the gentle child, 
and promised to come to him again, and de¬ 
parted. But, in after years, that child took 
higher flights upon the aerial steed than ever 
did Bellerophon, and achieved more honorable 
deeds than his friend’s victory* over the Chi¬ 
maera. For, gentle and tender as he was, he 
grew to be a mighty poet! 

227 


BALD-SUMMIT 


AFTER THE STORY 

E ustace bright told the legend 

of Bellerophon with as much fervor and 
animation as if he had really been tak¬ 
ing a gallop on the winged horse. At the con¬ 
clusion he was gratified to discern, by the glow¬ 
ing countenances of his auditors, how greatly 
they had been interested. All their eyes were 
dancing in their heads, except those of Prim¬ 
rose. In her eyes there were positively tears ; 
for she was conscious of something in the legend 
which the rest of them were not yet old enough 
to feel. Child’s story as it was, the student had 
contrived to breathe through it the ardor, the 
generous hope, and the imaginative enterprise 
of youth. 

“ I forgive you now, Primrose,” said he, 
“ for all your ridicule of myself and my stories. 
One tear pays for a great deal of laughter.” 

“ Well, Mr. Bright,” answered Primrose, 
wiping her eyes, and giving him another of her 
mischievous smiles, “ it certainly does elevate 
your ideas, to get your head above the clouds. 
228 


BALD-SUMMIT 


I advise you never to tell another story, unless 
it be, as at present, from the top of a moun¬ 
tain.” 

“ Or from the back of Pegasus/’ replied Eus¬ 
tace, laughing. “ Don’t you think that I suc¬ 
ceeded pretty well in catching that wonderful 
pony ? ” 

“ It was so like one of your madcap pranks! ” 
cried Primrose, clapping her hands. u I think 
I see you now on his back, two miles high, 
and with your head downward ! It is well that 
you have not really an opportunity of trying 
your horsemanship on any wilder steed than 
our sober Davy, or Old Hundred.” 

“ For my part, I wish I had Pegasus here at 
this moment,” said the student. “ I would 
mount him forthwith, and gallop about the 
country, within a circumference of a few miles, 
making literary calls on my brother authors. 
Dr. Dewey would be within my reach, at the 
foot of Taconic. In Stockbridge yonder, is 
Mr. James, conspicuous to all the world on his 
mountain pile of history and romance. Long¬ 
fellow, I believe, is not yet at the Ox-bow, else 
the winged horse would neigh at the sight of 
him. But here in Lenox I should find our 
most truthful novelist, who has made the scen¬ 
ery and life of Berkshire all her own. On 
the hither side of Pittsfield sits Herman Mel¬ 
ville, shaping out the gigantic conception of 
229 


A WONDER BOOK 


his White Whale, while the gigantic shape of 
Graylock looms upon him from his study win¬ 
dow. Another bound of my flying steed would 
bring me to the door of Holmes, whom I men¬ 
tion last, because Pegasus would certainly un¬ 
seat me the next minute, and claim the poet as 
his rider.” 

“ Have we not an author for our next neigh¬ 
bor ? ” asked Primrose. “ That silent man, 
who lives in the old red house, near Tangle- 
wood Avenue, and whom we sometimes meet, 
with two children at his side, in the woods or 
at the lake. I think I have heard of his hav¬ 
ing written a poem, or a romance, or an arith¬ 
metic, or a school-history, or some other kind of 
a book. ,, 

“ Hush, Primrose, hush ! ” exclaimed Eus¬ 
tace in a thrilling whisper, and putting his 
finger on his lip. “Not a word about that 
man, even on a hilltop! If our babble were to 
reach his ears, and happen not to please him, 
he has but to fling a quire or two of paper into 
the stove, and you, Primrose, and I, and Peri¬ 
winkle, Sweet Fern, Squash-Blossom, Blue Eye, 
Huckleberry, Clover, Cowslip, Plantain, Milk¬ 
weed, Dandelion, and Buttercup, — yes, and 
wise Mr. Pringle, with his unfavorable criti¬ 
cisms on my legends, and poor Mrs. Pringle, 
too, — would all turn to smoke, and go whisk¬ 
ing up the funnel ! Our neighbor in the red 
230 


BALD-SUMMIT 


house is a harmless sort of person enough, for 
aught I know, as concerns the rest of the world; 
but something whispers to me that he has a 
terrible power over ourselves, extending to no¬ 
thing short of annihilation.” 

“ And would Tanglewood turn to smoke, as 
well as we ? ” asked Periwinkle, quite appalled 
at the threatened destruction. “ And what 
would become of Ben and Bruin ? ” 

“ Tanglewood would remain,” replied the 
student, M looking just as it does now, but oc¬ 
cupied by an entirely different family. And 
Ben and Bruin would be still alive, and would 
make themselves very comfortable with the 
bones from the dinner-table, without ever think¬ 
ing of the good times which they and we have 
had together ! ” 

“ What nonsense you are talking! ” exclaimed 
Primrose. 

With idle chat of this kind, the party had 
already begun to descend the hill, and were 
now within the shadow of the woods. Prim¬ 
rose gathered some mountain-laurel, the leaf of 
which, though of last year’s growth, was still as 
verdant and elastic as if the frost and thaw had 
not alternately tried their force upon its texture. 
Of these twigs of laurel she twined a wreath, 
and took off the student’s cap in order to place 
it on his brow. 

“ Nobody else is likely to crown you for your 
231 


A WONDER BOOK 


stories,” observed saucy Primrose, “ so take this 
from me.” 

“ Do not be too sure,” answered Eustace, 
looking really like a youthful poet, with the 
laurel among his glossy curls, “ that I shall not 
win other wreaths by these wonderful and ad¬ 
mirable stories. I mean to spend all my leisure, 
during the rest of the vacation, and throughout 
the summer term at college, in writing them out 
for the press. Mr. J. T. Fields (with whom I 
became acquainted when he was in Berkshire, 
last summer, and who is a poet, as well as a 
publisher) will see their uncommon merit at a 
glance. He will get them illustrated, I hope, 
by Billings, and will bring them before the world 
under the very best of auspices, through the 
eminent house of Ticknor & Co. In about 
five months from this moment, I make no 
doubt of being reckoned among the lights of the 
age ! ” 

“ Poor boy ! ” said Primrose, half aside. 
“ What a disappointment awaits him ! ” 

Descending a little lower, Bruin began to 
bark, and was answered by the graver bow-wow 
of the respectable Ben. They soon saw the 
good old dog, keeping careful watch over Dan¬ 
delion, Sweet Fern, Cowslip, and Squash-Blos¬ 
som. These little people, quite recovered from 
their fatigue, had set about gathering checker- 
232 


BALD-SUMMIT 


berries, and now came clambering to meet their 
playfellows. Thus reunited, the whole party 
went down through Luther Butler’s orchard, 
and made the best of their way home to Tangle- 
wood. 


233 









TANGLEWOOD TALES 

FOR GIRLS AND BOYS 


BEING A SECOND WONDER BOOK 

THE WAYSIDE 

Introductory 

A SHORT time ago, I was favored with a 
flying visit from my young friend Eus¬ 
tace Bright, whom I had not before 
met with since quitting the breezy mountains 
of Berkshire. It being the winter vacation at 
his college, Eustace was allowing himself a little 
relaxation, in the hope, he told me, of repairing 
the inroads which severe application to study 
had made upon his health ; and I was happy to 
conclude, from the excellent physical condition 
in which I saw him, that the remedy had already 
been attended with very desirable success. He 
had now run up from Boston by the noon train, 
partly impelled by the friendly regard with which 
he is pleased to honor me, and partly, as I soon 
found, on a matter of literary business. 

It delighted me to receive Mr. Bright for 
235 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 

the first time under a roof, though a very hum¬ 
ble one, which I could really call my own. Nor 
did I fail (as is the custom of landed proprietors 
all about the world) to parade the poor fellow 
up and down over my half a dozen acres ; se¬ 
cretly rejoicing, nevertheless, that the disarray 
of the inclement season, and particularly the six 
inches of snow then upon the ground, prevented 
him from observing the ragged neglect of soil 
and shrubbery into which the place has lapsed. 
It was idle, however, to imagine that an airy 
guest from Monument Mountain, Bald-Sum¬ 
mit, and old Graylock, shaggy with primeval 
forests, could see anything to admire in my poor 
little hillside, with its growth of frail and insect- 
eaten locust-trees. Eustace very frankly called 
the view from my hilltop tame; and so, no 
doubt, it was, after rough, broken, rugged, head¬ 
long Berkshire, and especially the northern parts 
of the county, with which his college residence 
had made him familiar. But to me there is a 
peculiar, quiet charm in these broad meadows 
and gentle eminences. They are better than 
mountains, because they do not stamp and 
stereotype themselves into the brain, and thus 
grow wearisome with the same strong impres¬ 
sion, repeated day after day. A few summer 
weeks among mountains, a lifetime among green 
meadows and placid slopes, with outlines forever 
236 





THE WAYSIDE 


new, because continually fading out of the mem¬ 
ory, — such would be my sober choice. 

I doubt whether Eustace did not internally 
pronounce the whole thing a bore, until I led 
him to my predecessor’s little ruined, rustic 
summer-house, midway on the hillside. It is 
a mere skeleton of slender, decaying tree-trunks, 
with neither walls nor a roof; nothing but a 
tracery of branches and twigs, which the next 
wintry blast will be very likely to scatter in 
fragments along the terrace. It looks, and is, 
as evanescent as a dream ; and yet, in its rustic 
network of boughs, it has somehow enclosed a 
hint of spiritual beauty, and has become a true 
emblem of the subtile and ethereal mind that 
planned it. I made Eustace Bright sit down on 
a snow bank, which had heaped itself over the 
mossy seat, and gazing through the arched win¬ 
dow opposite, he acknowledged that the scene 
at once grew picturesque. 

“ Simple as it looks,” said he, “ this little edi¬ 
fice seems to be the work of magic. It is full 
of suggestiveness, and, in its way, is as good as 
a cathedral. Ah, it would be just the spot for 
one to sit in, of a summer afternoon, and tell 
the children some more of those wild stories 
from the classic myths ! ” 

“ It would, indeed,” answered I. cc The sum¬ 
mer-house itself, so airy and so broken, is like 
237 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


one of those old tales imperfectly remembered; 
and these living branches of the Baldwin apple- 
tree, thrusting themselves so rudely in, are 
like your unwarrantable interpolations. But, by 
the bye, have you added any more legends to 
the series, since the publication of the Wonder 
Book ? ” 

“ Many more,” said Eustace; “ Primrose, 
Periwinkle, and the rest of them allow me no 
comfort of my life unless I tell them a story 
every day or two. I have run away from home 
partly to escape the importunity of those little 
wretches ! But I have written out six of the 
new stories, and have brought them for you to 
look over.” 

“ Are they as good as the first ? ” I in¬ 
quired. 

“ Better chosen, and better handled,” replied 
Eustace Bright. “ You will say so when you 
read them.” 

“ Possibly not,” I remarked. <c I know, from 
my own experience, that an author's last work 
is always his best one, in his own estimate, 
until it quite loses the red heat of composition. 
After that it falls into its true place, quietly 
enough. But let us adjourn to my study, and 
examine these new stories. It would hardly 
be doing yourself justice, were you to bring me 
acquainted with them, sitting here on this snow 
bank! ” 


238 


THE WAYSIDE 


So we descended the hill to my small, old cot¬ 
tage, and shut ourselves up in the southeastern 
room, where the sunshine comes in, warmly and 
brightly, through the better half of a winter’s 
day. Eustace put his bundle of manuscript 
into my hands ; and I skimmed through it pretty 
rapidly, trying to find out its merits and demerits 
by the touch of my fingers, as a veteran story¬ 
teller ought to know how to do. 

It will be remembered, that Mr. Bright con¬ 
descended to avail himself of my literary experi¬ 
ence by constituting me editor of the Wonder 
Book. As he had no reason to complain of the 
reception of that erudite work by the public, he 
was now disposed to retain me in a similar posi¬ 
tion, with respect to the present volume, which 
he entitled Tanglewood Tales. Not, as Eus¬ 
tace hinted, that there was any real necessity 
for my services as introductor, inasmuch as his 
own name had become established, in some good 
degree of favor, with the literary world. But 
the connection with myself, he was kind enough 
to say, had been highly agreeable; nor was he 
by any means desirous, as most people are, of 
kicking away the ladder that had perhaps helped 
him to reach his present elevation. My young 
friend was willing, in short, that the fresh ver¬ 
dure of his growing reputation should spread 
over my straggling and half-naked boughs; even 
as I have sometimes thought of training a vine, 
239 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


with its broad leafiness, and purple fruitage, over 
the worm-eaten posts and rafters of the rustic 
summer-house. I was not insensible to the 
advantages of his proposal, and gladly assured 
him of my acceptance. 

Merely from the titles of the stories, I saw at 
once that the subjects were not less rich than 
those of the former volume; nor did I at all 
doubt that Mr. Bright’s audacity (so far as that 
endowment might avail) had enabled him to take 
full advantage of whatever capabilities they of¬ 
fered. Yet, in spite of my experience of his 
free way of handling them, I did not quite see, 
I confess, how he could have obviated all the 
difficulties in the way of rendering them pre¬ 
sentable to children. These old legends, so 
brimming over with everything that is most 
abhorrent to our Christianized moral sense,— 
some of them so hideous, others so melancholy 
and miserable, amid which the Greek tragedians 
sought their themes, and moulded them into the 
sternest forms of grief that ever the world saw ; 
was such material the stuff that children’s play¬ 
things should be made of? How were they to 
be purified? How was the blessed sunshine to 
be thrown into them ? 

But Eustace told me that these myths were 
the most singular things in the world, and that 
he was invariably astonished, whenever he be¬ 
gan to relate one, by the readiness with which it 
240 


THE WAYSIDE 


adapted itself to the childish purity of his audi¬ 
tors. The objectionable characteristics seem to 
be a parasitical growth, having no essential con¬ 
nection with the original fable. They fall away, 
and are thought of no more, the instant he puts 
his imagination in sympathy with the innocent 
little circle, whose wide-open eyes are fixed so 
eagerly upon him. Thus the stories (not by any 
strained effort of the narrator's, but in harmony 
with their inherent germ) transform themselves, 
and reassume the shapes which they might be 
supposed to possess in the pure childhood of 
the world. When the first poet or romancer 
told these marvellous legends (such is Eustace 
Bright's opinion), it was still the Golden Age. 
Evil had never yet existed ; and sorrow, misfor¬ 
tune, crime, were mere shadows which the mind 
fancifully created for itself, as a shelter against 
too sunny realities; or, at most, but prophetic 
dreams, to which the dreamer himself did not 
yield a waking credence. Children are now the 
only representatives of the men and women 
of that happy era; and therefore it is that we 
must raise the intellect and fancy to the level 
of childhood, in order to re-create the original 
myth. 

I let the youthful author talk as much and as 
extravagantly as he pleased, and was glad to see 
him commencing life with such confidence in 
himself and his performances. A few years will 
241 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


do all that is necessary towards showing him the 
truth in both respects. Meanwhile, it is but 
right to say, he does really appear to have over¬ 
come the moral objections against these fables, 
although at the expense of such liberties with 
their structure as must be left to plead their own 
excuse, without any help from me. Indeed, ex¬ 
cept that there was a necessity for it, — and that 
the inner life of the legends cannot be come at 
save by making them entirely one's own pro¬ 
perty, — there is no defence to be made. 

Eustace informed me that he had told his 
stories to the children in various situations,— 
in the woods, on the shore of the lake, in the 
dell of Shadow Brook, in the play-room at Tan- 
glewood fireside, and in a magnificent palace of 
snow, with ice windows, which he helped his 
little friends to build. His auditors were even 
more delighted with the contents of the present 
volume than with the specimens which have al¬ 
ready been given to the world. The classically 
learned Mr. Pringle, too, had listened to two 
or three of the tales, and censured them even 
more bitterly than he did The Three Golden 
Apples ; so that, what with praise, and what with 
criticism, Eustace Bright thinks that there is 
good hope of at least as much success with the 
public as in the case of the Wonder Book. 

I made all sorts of inquiries about the chil¬ 
dren, not doubting that there would be great 
242 


THE WAYSIDE 


eagerness to hear of their welfare among some 
good little folks who have written to me, to ask 
for another volume of myths. They are all, I 
am happy to say (unless we except Clover), in 
excellent health and spirits. Primrose is now 
almost a young lady, and, Eustace tells me, is 
just as saucy as ever. She pretends to consider 
herself quite beyond the age to be interested 
by such idle stories as these ; but, for all that, 
whenever a story is to be told, Primrose never 
fails to be one of the listeners, and to make fun 
of it when finished. Periwinkle is very much 
grown, and is expected to shut up her baby- 
house and throw away her doll in a month or 
two more. Sweet Fern has learned to read and 
write, and has put on a jacket and pair of pan¬ 
taloons, — all of which improvements I am sorry 
for. Squash-Blossom, Blue Eye, Plantain, and 
Buttercup have had the scarlet fever, but came 
easily through it. Huckleberry, Milkweed, and 
Dandelion were attacked with the whooping- 
cough, but bore it bravely, and kept out of doors 
whenever the sun shone. Cowslip, during the 
autumn, had either the measles, or some erup¬ 
tion that looked very much like it, but was 
hardly sick a day. Poor Clover has been a 
good deal troubled with her second teeth, which 
have made her meagre in aspect and rather frac¬ 
tious in temper ; nor, even when she smiles, is 
the matter much mended, since it discloses a 
243 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


gap just within her lips, almost as wide as the 
barn door. But all this will pass over, and it 
is predicted that she will turn out a very pretty 

girl- 

As for Mr. Bright himself, he is now in his 
senior year at Williams College, and has a pro¬ 
spect of graduating with some degree of honora¬ 
ble distinction at the next Commencement. In 
his oration for the bachelor’s degree, he gives 
me to understand, he will treat of the classical 
myths, viewed in the aspect of baby stories, and 
has a great mind to discuss the expediency of 
using up the whole of ancient history for the 
same purpose. I do not know what he means 
to do with himself after leaving college, but trust 
that, by dabbling so early with the dangerous 
and seductive business of authorship, he will 
not be tempted to become an author by pro¬ 
fession. If so, I shall be very sorry for the lit¬ 
tle that I have had to do with the matter, in 
encouraging these first beginnings. 

I wish there were any likelihood of my soon 
seeing Primrose, Periwinkle, Dandelion, Sweet 
Fern, Clover, Plantain, Huckleberry, Milk¬ 
weed, Cowslip, Buttercup, Blue Eye, and 
Squash-Blossom again. But as I do not know 
when I shall revisit Tanglewood, and as Eustace 
Bright probably will not ask me to edit a third 
Wonder Book, the public of little folks must 
244 


THE WAYSIDE 


not expect to hear any more about those dear 
children from me. Heaven bless them, and 
everybody else, whether grown people or chil¬ 
dren ! 

The Wayside, Concord, Mass. 

March 13, 1853. 


245 


THE MINOTAUR 


I N the old city of Trcezene, at the foot of 
a lofty mountain, there lived, a very long 
time ago, a little boy named Theseus. His 
grandfather, King Pittheus, was the sovereign 
of that country, and was reckoned a very wise 
man ; so that Theseus, being brought up in the 
royal palace, and being naturally a bright lad, 
could hardly fail of profiting by the old king’s 
instructions. His mother’s name was iEthra. 
As for his father, the boy had never seen him. 
But, from his earliest remembrance, iEthra used 
to go with little Theseus into a wood, and sit 
down upon a moss-grown rock, which was deeply 
sunken into the earth. Here she often talked 
with her son about his father, and said that he 
was called iEgeus, and that he was a great king, 
and ruled over Attica, and dwelt at Athens, 
which was as famous a city as any in the world. 
Theseus was very fond of hearing about King 
iEgeus, and often asked his good mother iEthra 
why he did not come and live with them at 
Troezene. 

“ Ah, my dear son,” answered iEthra, with 
a sigh, “ a monarch has his people to take care 
of. The men and women over whom he rules 
246 


THE MINOTAUR 


are in the place of children to him ; and he can 
seldom spare time to love his own children as 
other parents do. Your father will never be 
able to leave his kingdom for the sake of seeing 
his little boy.” 

“Well, but, dear mother,” asked the boy, 
“why cannot I go to this famous city of Athens, 
and tell King iEgeus that I am his son ? ” 

“ That may happen by and by,” said iEthra. 
“ Be patient, and we shall see. You are not 
yet big and strong enough to set out on such 
an errand.” 

“ And how soon shall I be strong enough ? ” 
Theseus persisted in inquiring. 

“ You are but a tiny boy as yet,” replied his 
mother. “ See if you can lift this rock on which 
we are sitting.” 

The little fellow had a great opinion of his 
own strength. So, grasping the rough pro¬ 
tuberances of the rock, he tugged and toiled 
amain and got himself quite out of breath, with¬ 
out being able to stir the heavy stone. It seemed 
to be rooted into the ground. No wonder he 
could not move it; for it would have taken all 
the force of a very strong man to lift it out of its 
earthy bed. 

His mother stood looking on, with a sad kind 
of a smile on her lips and in her eyes, to see the 
zealous and yet puny efforts of her little boy. 
She could not help being sorrowful at finding 
247 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


him already so impatient to begin his adventures 
in the world. 

“ You see how it is, my dear Theseus,” said 
she. “ You must possess far more strength 
than now before I can trust you to go to Athens, 
and tell King iEgeus that you are his son. But 
when you can lift this rock, and show me what 
is hidden beneath it, I promise you my permis¬ 
sion to depart.” 

Often and often after this, did Theseus ask his 
mother whether it was yet time for him to go 
to Athens; and still his mother pointed to the 
rock, and told him that, for years to come, he 
could not be strong enough to move it. And 
again and again the rosy-cheeked and curly- 
headed boy would tug and strain at the huge 
mass of stone, — striving, child as he was, to 
do what a giant could hardly have done with¬ 
out taking both of his great hands to the task. 
Meanwhile the rock seemed to be sinking farther 
and farther into the ground. The moss grew 
over it thicker and thicker, until at last it looked 
almost like a soft green seat, with only a few 
gray knobs of granite peeping out. The over¬ 
hanging trees, also, shed their brown leaves 
upon it as often as the autumn came; and at 
its base grew ferns and wild flowers, some of 
which crept quite over its surface. To all ap¬ 
pearance, the rock was as firmly fastened as any 
other portion of the earth's substance. 

248 


THE MINOTAUR 


But, difficult as the matter looked, Theseus 
was now growing up to be such a vigorous 
youth, that, in his own opinion, the time would 
quickly come when he might hope to get the 
upper hand of this ponderous lump of stone. 

“ Mother, I do believe it has started ! ” cried 
he, after one of his attempts. “ The earth 
around it is certainly a little cracked ! ” 

“ No, no, child!” his mother hastily an¬ 
swered. “It is not possible you can have 
moved it, such a boy as you still are ! ” 

Nor would she be convinced, although The¬ 
seus showed her the place where he fancied that 
the stem of a flower had been partly uprooted 
by the movement of the rock. But iEthra 
sighed and looked disquieted; for, no doubt, 
she began to be conscious that her son was no 
longer a child, and that, in a little while hence, 
she must send him forth among the perils and 
troubles of the world. 

It was not more than a year afterwards when 
they were again sitting on the moss-covered 
stone. iEthra had once more told him the oft- 
repeated story of his father, and how gladly he 
would receive Theseus at his stately palace, and 
how he would present him to his courtiers and 
the people, and tell them that here was the 
heir of his dominions. The eyes of Theseus 
glowed with enthusiasm, and he would hardly 
sit still to hear his mother speak. 

249 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 

“ Dear mother iEthra,” he exclaimed, “ I 
never felt half so strong as now ! I am no 
longer a child, nor a boy, nor a mere youth ! I 
feel myself a man! It is now time to make 
one earnest trial to remove the stone.” 

“Ah, my dearest Theseus,” replied his mo¬ 
ther, “ not yet! not yet! ” 

“ Yes, mother,” said he resolutely, “ the time 
has come.” 

Then Theseus bent himself in good earnest 
to the task, and strained every sinew, with 
manly strength and resolution. He put his 
whole brave heart into the effort. He wrestled 
with the big and sluggish stone, as if it had been 
a living enemy. He heaved, he lifted, he re¬ 
solved now to succeed, or else to perish there, 
and let the rock be his monument forever ! 
JE thra stood gazing at him, and clasped her 
hands, partly with a mother’s pride, and partly 
with a mother’s sorrow. The great rock stirred ! 
Yes, it was raised slowly from the bedded moss 
and earth, uprooting the shrubs and flowers 
along with it, and was turned upon its side. 
Theseus had conquered! 

While taking breath, he looked joyfully at 
his mother, and she smiled upon him through 
her tears. 

“Yes, Theseus,” she said, “the time has 
come, and you must stay no longer at my side! 
See what King iEgeus, your royal father, left 
250 


Bv 


THE MINOTAUR 


for you beneath the stone, when he lifted it in 
his mighty arms, and laid it on the spot whence 
you have now removed it.” 

Theseus looked, and saw that the rock had 
been placed over another slab of stone, con¬ 
taining a cavity within it; so that it somewhat 
resembled a roughly made chest or coffer, of 
which the upper mass had served as the lid. 
Within the cavity lay a sword with a golden hilt 
and a pair of sandals. 

“That was your father’s sword,” said iEthra, 
“and those were his sandals. When he went 
to be king of Athens, he bade me treat you as 
a child until you should prove yourself a man 
by lifting this heavy stone. That task being 
accomplished, you are to put on his sandals, in 
order to follow in your father’s footsteps, and 
to gird on his sword, so that you may fight giants 
and dragons as King iEgeus did in his youth.” 

“ I will set out for Athens this very day ! ” 
cried Theseus. 

But his mother persuaded him to stay a day 
or two longer, while she got ready some neces- 
sary articles for his journey. When his grand¬ 
father, the wise King Pittheus, heard that The¬ 
seus intended to present himself at his father’s 
palace, he earnestly advised him to get on board 
of a vessel, and go by sea ; because he might 
thus arrive within fifteen miles of Athens, with¬ 
out either fatigue or danger. 

251 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


“ The roads are very bad by land,” quoth 
the venerable king ; “ and they are terribly in¬ 
fested with robbers and monsters. A mere lad, 
like Theseus, is not fit to be trusted on such a 
perilous journey, all by himself. No, no ; let 
him go by sea! ” 

But when Theseus heard of robbers and 
monsters, he pricked up his ears, and was so 
much the more eager to take the road along 
which they were to be met with. On the third 
day, therefore, he bade a respectful farewell to 
his grandfather, thanking him for all his kind¬ 
ness, and, after affectionately embracing his 
mother, he set forth, with a good many of her 
tears glistening on his cheeks, and some, if the 
truth must be told, that had gushed out of his 
own eyes. But he let the sun and wind dry 
them, and walked stoutly on, playing with the 
golden hilt of his sword and taking very manly 
strides in his father’s sandals. 

I cannot stop to tell you hardly any of the 
adventures that befell Theseus on the road to 
Athens. It is enough to say, that he quite 
cleared that part of the country of the robbers, 
about whom King Pittheus had been so much 
alarmed. One of these bad people was named 
Procrustes ; and he was indeed a terrible fellow, 
and had an ugly way of making fun of the poor 
travellers who happened to fall into his clutches. 
In his cavern he had a bed, on which, with great 
252 


THE MINOTAUR 


pretence of hospitality, he invited his guests to 
lie down; but if they happened to be shorter 
than the bed, this wicked villain stretched them 
out by main force ; or, if they were too long, 
he lopped off their heads or feet, and laughed 
at what he had done, as an excellent joke. Thus, 
however weary a man might be, he never liked 
to lie in the bed of Procrustes. Another of 
these robbers, named Scinis, must likewise have 
been a very great scoundrel. He was in the 
habit of flinging his victims off a high cliff into 
the sea; and, in order to give him exactly his 
deserts, Theseus tossed him off the very same 
place. But if you will believe me, the sea would 
not pollute itself by receiving such a bad person 
into its bosom, neither would the earth, having 
once got rid of him, consent to take him back; 
so that, between the cliff and the sea, Scinis 
stuck fast in the air, which was forced to bear 
the burden of his naughtiness. 

After these memorable deeds, Theseus heard 
of an enormous sow, which ran wild, and was 
the terror of all the farmers round about; and, 
as he did not consider himself above doing any 
good thing that came in his way, he killed this 
monstrous creature, and gave the carcass to the 
poor people for bacon. The great sow had been 
an awful beast, while ramping about the woods 
and fields, but was a pleasant object enough 
253 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


when cut up into joints, and smoking on I know 
not how many dinner-tables. 

“ Thus, by the time he reached his journey's 
end, Theseus had done many valiant feats with 
his father's golden-hilted sword, and had gained 
the renown of being one of the bravest young 
men of the day. His fame travelled faster than 
he did, and reached Athens before him. As he 
entered the city, he heard the inhabitants talk¬ 
ing at the street corners, and saying that Her¬ 
cules was brave, and Jason too, and Castor and 
Pollux likewise, but that Theseus, the son of 
their own king, would turn out as great a hero 
as the best of them. Theseus took longer 
strides on hearing this, and fancied himself sure 
of a magnificent reception at his father's court, 
since he came thither with Fame to blow her 
trumpet before him, and cry to King iEgeus, 
“ Behold your son ! " 

He little suspected, innocent youth that he 
was, that here, in this very Athens, where his 
father reigned, a greater danger awaited him 
than any which he had encountered on the road. 
Yet this was the truth. You must understand 
that the father of Theseus, though not very old 
in years, was almost worn out with the cares of 
government, and had thus grown aged before 
his time. His nephews, not expecting him to 
live a very great while, intended to get all the 
power of the kingdom into their own hands. 

254 


THE MINOTAUR 


But when they heard that Theseus had arrived 
in Athens, and learned what a gallant young 
man he was, they saw that he would not be at 
all the kind of person to let them steal away his 
father’s crown and sceptre, which ought to be 
his own by right of inheritance. Thus these 
bad-hearted nephews of King iEgeus, who were 
the own cousins of Theseus, at once became 
his enemies. A still more dangerous enemy 
was Medea, the wicked enchantress ; for she 
was now the king’s wife, and wanted to give 
the kingdom to her son Medus, instead of let¬ 
ting it be given to the son of iEthra, whom 
she hated. 

It so happened that the king’s nephews met 
Theseus, and found out who he was, just as he 
reached the entrance of the royal palace. With 
all their evil designs against him, they pretended 
to be their cousin’s best friends, and expressed 
great joy at making his acquaintance. They 
proposed to him that he should come into the 
king’s presence as a stranger, in order to try 
whether iEgeas would discover in the young 
man’s features any likeness either to himself or 
his mother iEthra, and thus recognize him for 
a son. Theseus consented ; for he fancied that 
his father would know him in a moment, by 
the love that was in his heart. But, while he 
waited at the door, the nephews ran and told 
King Aigeus that a young man had arrived in 
255 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


Athens, who, to their certain knowledge, in¬ 
tended to put him to death, and get possession 
of his royal crown. 

“And he is now waiting for admission to 
your Majesty’s presence,” added they. 

“ Aha ! ” cried the old king, on hearing this. 
cc Why, he must be a very wicked young fellow 
indeed! Pray, what would you advise me to 
do with him ? ” 

In reply to this question, the wicked Medea 
put in her word. As I have already told you, 
she was a famous enchantress. According to 
some stories, she was in the habit of boiling 
old people in a large caldron, under pretence of 
making them young again ; but King iEgeus, 
I suppose, did not fancy such an uncomfortable 
way of growing young, or perhaps was con¬ 
tented to be old, and therefore would never let 
himself be popped into the caldron. If there 
were time to spare from more important mat¬ 
ters, I should be glad to tell you of Medea’s 
fiery chariot, drawn by winged dragons, in which 
the enchantress used often to take an airing 
among the clouds. This chariot, in fact, was 
the vehicle that first brought her to Athens, 
where she had done nothing but mischief ever 
since her arrival. But these and many other 
wonders must be left untold ; and it is enough 
to say, that Medea, amongst a thousand other 
bad things, knew how to prepare a poison, that 
256 


THE MINOTAUR 


was instantly fatal to whomsoever might so 
much as touch it with his lips. 

So, when the king asked what he should do 
with Theseus, this naughty woman had an an¬ 
swer ready at her tongue's end. 

“ Leave that to me, please your Majesty," 
she replied. “ Only admit this evil-minded 
young man to your presence, treat him civilly, 
and invite him to drink a goblet of wine. Your 
Majesty is well aware that I sometimes amuse 
myself with distilling very powerful medicines. 
Here is one of them in this small phial. As to 
what it is made of, that is one of my secrets of 
state. Do but let me put a single drop into 
the goblet, and let the young man taste it; and 
I will answer for it, he shall quite lay aside the 
bad designs with which he comes hither.", 

As she said this, Medea smiled ; but, for all 
her smiling face, she meant nothing less than to 
poison the poor innocent Theseus, before his 
father’s eyes. And King Aegeus, like most other 
kings, thought any punishment mild enough for 
a person who was accused of plotting against 
his life. He therefore made little or no ob¬ 
jection to Medea’s scheme, and as soon as the 
poisonous wine was ready, gave orders that the 
young stranger should be admitted into his 
presence. The goblet was set on a table beside 
the king’s throne; and a fly, meaning just to sip 
a little from the brim, immediately tumbled into 
257 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


it, dead. Observing this, Medea looked round 
at the nephews, and smiled again. 

When Theseus was ushered into the royal 
apartment, the only object that he seemed to 
behold was the white-bearded old king. There 
he sat on his magnificent throne, a dazzling 
crown on his head and a sceptre in his hand. 
His aspect was stately and majestic, although 
his years and infirmities weighed heavily upon 
him, as if each year were a lump of lead, and 
each infirmity a ponderous stone, and all were 
bundled up together and laid upon his weary 
shoulders. The tears both of joy and sorrow 
sprang into the young man's eyes ; for he 
thought how sad it was to see his dear father so 
infirm, and how sweet it would be to support 
him with his own youthful strength, and to 
cheer him up with the alacrity of his loving 
spirit. When a son takes his father into his 
warm heart, it renews the old man’s youth in a 
better way than by the heat of Medea’s magic 
caldron. And this was what Theseus resolved 
to do. He could scarcely wait to see whether 
King iEgeus would recognize him, so eager was 
he to throw himself into his arms. 

Advancing to the foot of the throne, he at¬ 
tempted to make a little speech, which he had 
been thinking about as he came up the stairs. 
But he was almost choked by a great many ten¬ 
der feelings that gushed out of his heart and 
258 


THE MINOTAUR 


swelled into his throat, all struggling to find 
utterance together. And therefore, unless he 
could have laid his full, over-brimming heart 
into the king's hand, poor Theseus knew not 
what to do or say. The cunning Medea ob¬ 
served what was passing in the young man’s 
mind. She was more wicked at that moment 
than ever she had been before ; for (and it makes 
me tremble to tell you of it) she did her worst 
to turn all this unspeakable love with which 
Theseus was agitated, to his own ruin and de¬ 
struction. 

“ Does your Majesty see his confusion ? ” 
she whispered in the king’s ear. “He is so 
conscious of guilt, that he trembles and cannot 
speak. The wretch lives too long! Quick! 
offer him the wine ! ” 

Now King iEgeus had been gazing earnestly 
at the young stranger, as he drew near the 
throne. There was something, he knew not 
what, either in his white brow, or in the fine ex¬ 
pression of his mouth, or in his beautiful and 
tender eyes, that made him indistinctly feel as 
if he had seen this youth before; as if, indeed, 
he had trotted him on his knee when a baby, 
and had beheld him growing to be a stalwart 
man while he himself grew old. But Medea 
guessed how the king felt, and would not suffer 
him to yield to these natural sensibilities ; al¬ 
though they were the voice of his deepest heart, 
259 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


telling him, as plainly as it could speak, that 
here was his dear son, and iEthra’s son, coming 
to claim him for a father. The enchantress 
again whispered in the king’s ear, and compelled 
him, by her witchcraft, to see everything under 
a false aspect. 

He made up his mind, therefore, to let The¬ 
seus drink off the poisoned wine. 

“ Young man,” said he, “ you are welcome ! 
I am proud to show hospitality to so heroic a 
youth. Do me the favor to drink the contents 
of this goblet. It is brimming over, as you 
see, with delicious wine, such as I bestow only 
on those who are worthy of it! None is more 
worthy to quaff it than yourself! ” 

So saying, King iEgeus took the golden gob¬ 
let from the table, and was about to offer it to 
Theseus. But, partly through his infirmities, 
and partly because it seemed so sad a thing to 
take away this young man’s life, however wicked 
he might be, and partly, no doubt, because his 
heart was wiser than his head, and quaked 
within him at the thought of what he was going 
to do,— for all these reasons, the king’s hand 
trembled so much that a great deal of the wine 
slopped over. In order to strengthen his pur¬ 
pose, and fearing lest the whole of the precious 
poison should be wasted, one of his nephews 
now whispered to him, — 

“ Has your Majesty any doubt of this stran- 
260 


THE MINOTAUR 


ger's guilt ? There is the very sword with which 
he meant to slay you. How sharp, and bright, 
and terrible it is ! Quick ! — let him taste the 
wine; or perhaps he may do the deed even 
yet.” 

At these words iEgeus drove every thought 
and feeling out of his breast, except the one idea 
of how justly the young man deserved to be 
put to death. He sat erect on his throne, and 
held out the goblet of wine with a steady hand, 
and bent on Theseus a frown of kingly sever¬ 
ity ; for, after all, he had too noble a spirit to 
murder even a treacherous enemy with a deceit¬ 
ful smile upon his face. 

“ Drink ! ” said he, in the stern tone with 
which he was wont to condemn a criminal to be 
beheaded. “ You have well deserved of me 
such wine as this ! ” 

Theseus held out his hand to take the wine. 
But, before he touched it, King iEgeus trembled 
again. His eyes had fallen on the gold-hilted 
sword that hung at the young man's side. He 
drew back the goblet. 

“ That sword ! ” he cried ; “ how came you 
by it ? ” 

“ It was my father's sword,” replied Theseus 
with a tremulous voice. “ These were his san¬ 
dals. My dear mother (her name is iEthra) 
told me his story while I was yet a little child. 
But it is only a month since I grew strong enough 
261 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


to lift the heavy stone, and take the sword and 
sandals from beneath it, and come to Athens to 
seek my father.” 

“ My son ! my son ! ” cried King iEgeus, 
flinging away the fatal goblet, and tottering 
down from the throne to fall into the arms of 
Theseus. “ Yes, these are iEthra’s eyes. It is 
my son.” 

I have quite forgotten what became of the 
king's nephews. But when the wicked Medea 
saw this new turn of affairs, she hurried out of 
the room, and going to her private chamber, 
lost no time in setting her enchantments at work. 
In a few moments, she heard a great noise of 
hissing snakes outside of the chamber window; 
and behold ! there was her fiery chariot, and 
four huge winged serpents, wriggling and twist¬ 
ing in the air, flourishing their tails higher than 
the top of the palace, and all ready to set off 
on an aerial journey. Medea stayed only long 
enough to take her son with her, and to steal 
the crown jewels, together with the king’s best 
robes, and whatever other valuable things she 
could lay hands on; and getting into the chariot, 
she whipped up the snakes, and ascended high 
over the city. 

The king, hearing the hiss of the serpents, 
scrambled as fast as he could to the window, and 
bawled out to the abominable enchantress never 
to come back. The whole people of Athens, 
262 


<r 


THE MINOTAUR 


too, who had run out of doors to see this won¬ 
derful spectacle, set up a shout of joy at the 
prospect of getting rid of her. Medea, almost 
bursting with rage, uttered precisely such a hiss 
as one of her own snakes, only ten times more 
venomous and spiteful; and glaring fiercely out 
of the blaze of the chariot, she shook her hands 
over the multitude below, as if she were scatter¬ 
ing a million of curses among them. In so do¬ 
ing, however, she unintentionally let fall about 
five hundred diamonds of the first water, to¬ 
gether with a thousand great pearls, and two 
thousand emeralds, rubies, sapphires, opals, and 
topazes, to which she had helped herself out of 
the king’s strong-box. All these came pelting 
down, like a shower of many-colored hailstones, 
upon the heads of grown people and children, 
who forthwith gathered them up and carried 
them back to the palace. But King iEgeus told 
them that they were welcome to the whole, and 
to twice as many more, if he had them, for the 
sake of his delight at finding his son, and losing 
the wicked Medea. And, indeed, if you had 
seen how hateful was her last look, as the flam¬ 
ing chariot flew upward, you would not have 
wondered that both king and people should 
think her departure a good riddance. 

And now Prince Theseus was taken into great 
favor by his royal father. The old king was 
never weary of having him sit beside him on his 
263 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


throne (which was quite wide enough for two), 
and of hearing him tell about his dear mother, 
and his childhood, and his many boyish efforts 
to lift the ponderous stone. Theseus, however, 
was much too brave and active a young man to 
be willing to spend all his time in relating things 
which had already happened. His ambition 
was to perform other and more heroic deeds, 
which should be better worth telling in prose 
and verse. Nor had he been long in Athens 
before he caught and chained a terrible mad 
bull, and made a public show of him, greatly 
to the wonder and admiration of good King 
iEgeus and his subjects. But pretty soon he 
undertook an affair that made all his foregone 
adventures seem like mere boy’s play. The 
occasion of it was as follows : — 

One morning, when Prince Theseus awoke, 
he fancied that he must have had a very sor¬ 
rowful dream, and that it was still running in his 
mind, even now that his eyes were open. For 
it appeared as if the air was full of a melancholy 
wail; and when he listened more attentively, he 
could hear sobs and groans and screams of woe, 
mingled with deep, quiet sighs, which came from 
the king’s palace, and from the streets, and from 
the temples, and from every habitation in the 
city. And all these mournful noises, issuing out 
of thousands of separate hearts, united them¬ 
selves into the one great sound of affliction, 
264 


THE MINOTAUR 


which had startled Theseus from slumber. He 
put on his clothes as quickly as he could (not 
forgetting his sandals and gold-hilted sword), 
and hastening to the king, inquired what it all 
meant. 

“ Alas ! my son,” quoth King iEgeus, heav¬ 
ing a long sigh, “ here is a very lamentable mat¬ 
ter in hand! This is the wofullest anniversary 
in the whole year. It is the day when we annu¬ 
ally draw lots to see which of the youths and 
maidens of Athens shall go to be devoured by 
the horrible Minotaur ! ” 

“The Minotaur!” exclaimed Prince The¬ 
seus ; and, like a brave young prince as he was, 
he put his hand to the hilt of his sword. 
“ What kind of a monster may that be ? Is it 
not possible, at the risk of one's life, to slay 
him ? ” 

But King iEgeus shook his venerable head, 
and to convince Theseus that it was quite a 
hopeless case, he gave him an explanation of the 
whole affair. It seems that in the island of 
Crete there lived a certain dreadful monster, 
called a Minotaur, which was shaped partly like 
a man and partly like a bull, and was altogether 
such a hideous sort of a creature that it is really 
disagreeable to think of him. If he were suf¬ 
fered to exist at all, it should have been on some 
desert island, or in the duskiness of some deep 
cavern, where nobody would ever be tormented 
265 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


by his abominable aspect. But King Minos, 
who reigned over Crete, laid out a vast deal of 
money in building a habitation for the Mino¬ 
taur, and took great care of his health and com¬ 
fort, merely for mischief’s sake. A few years 
before this time, there had been a war between 
the city of Athens and the island of Crete, in 
which the Athenians were beaten and compelled 
to beg for peace. No peace could they obtain, 
however, except on condition that they should 
send seven young men and seven maidens, every 
year, to be devoured by the pet monster of the 
cruel King Minos. For three years past, this 
grievous calamity had been borne. And the 
sobs, and groans, and shrieks, with which the 
city was now filled, were caused by the people’s 
woe, because the fatal day had come again when 
the fourteen victims were to be chosen by lot; 
and the old people feared lest their sons or 
daughters might be taken, and the youths and 
damsels dreaded lest they themselves might be 
destined to glut the ravenous maw of that de¬ 
testable man-brute. 

But when Theseus heard the story he straight¬ 
ened himself up, so that he seemed taller than 
ever before ; and as for his face, it was indignant, 
despiteful, bold, tender, and compassionate, all 
in one look. 

“ Let the people of Athens, this year, draw 
lots for only six young men, instead of seven,” 
266 



THE MINOTAUR 


said he. “ I will myself be the seventh; and 
let the Minotaur devour me, if he can ! ” 

“ O my dear son/’ cried King iEgeus, “ why 
should you expose yourself to this horrible fate? 
You are a royal prince, and have a right to hold 
yourself above the destinies of common men.” 

“ It is because I am a prince, your son, and 
the rightful heir of your kingdom, that 1 freely 
take upon me the calamity of your subjects,” 
answered Theseus. “ And you, my father, be¬ 
ing king over this people, and answerable to 
Heaven for their welfare, are bound to sacrifice 
what is dearest to you, rather than that the son 
or daughter of the poorest citizen should come 
to any harm.” 

The old king shed tears, and besought The¬ 
seus not to leave him desolate in his old age, 
more especially as he had but just begun to 
know the happiness of possessing a good and 
valiant son. Theseus, however, felt that he was 
in the right, and therefore would not give up 
his resolution. But he assured his father that 
he did not intend to be eaten up unresistingly, 
like a sheep, and that, if the Minotaur devoured 
him, it should not be without a battle for his 
dinner. And finally, since he could not help 
it, King Aegeus consented to let him go. So a 
vessel was got ready, and rigged with black sails; 
and Theseus, with six other young men, and 
seven tender and beautiful damsels, came down 
267 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


to the harbor to embark. A sorrowful multi¬ 
tude accompanied them to the shore. There 
was the poor old king, too, leaning on his son’s 
arm, and looking as if his single heart held all 
the grief of Athens. 

Just as Prince Theseus was going on board, 
his father bethought himself of one last word to 
say. 

“ My beloved son,” said he, grasping the 
prince’s hand, “ you observe that the sails of 
this vessel are black; as indeed they ought to 
be, since it goes upon a voyage of sorrow and 
despair. Now, being weighed down with in¬ 
firmities, I know not whether I can survive till 
the vessel shall return. But, as long as I do 
live, I shall creep daily to the top of yonder 
cliff, to watch if there be a sail upon the sea. 
And, dearest Theseus, if by some happy chance 
you should escape the jaws of the Minotaur, 
then tear down those dismal sails, and hoist 
others that shall be bright as the sunshine. Be¬ 
holding them on the horizon, myself and all the 
people will know that you are coming back vic¬ 
torious, and will welcome you with such a festal 
uproar as Athens never heard before.” 

Theseus promised that he would do so. Then, 
going on board, the mariners trimmed the ves¬ 
sel’s black sails to the wind, which blew faintly 
off the shore, being pretty much made up of 
the sighs that everybody kept pouring forth on 
268 


THE MINOTAUR 


this melancholy occasion. But by and by, when 
they had got fairly out to sea, there came a stiff 
breeze from the northwest, and drove them 
along as merrily over the white-capped waves as 
if they had been going on the most delightful 
errand imaginable. And though it was a sad 
business enough, I rather question whether four¬ 
teen young people, without any old persons to 
keep them in order, could continue to spend the 
whole time of the voyage in being miserable. 
There had been some few dances upon the un¬ 
dulating deck, I suspect, and some hearty bursts 
of laughter, and other such unseasonable merri¬ 
ment among the victims, before the high, blue 
mountains of Crete began to show themselves 
among the far-off clouds. That sight, to be 
sure, made them all very grave again. 

Theseus stood among the sailors, gazing 
eagerly towards the land; although, as yet, it 
seemed hardly more substantial than the clouds, 
amidst which the mountains were looming up. 
Once or twice he fancied that he saw a glare of 
some bright object, a long way off, flinging a 
gleam across the waves. 

“ Did you see that flash of light ? ” he in¬ 
quired of the master of the vessel. 

“ No, prince ; but I have seen it before/' 
answered the master. “ It came from Talus, I 
suppose." 

As the breeze came fresher just then, the 
269 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


master was busy with trimming his sails, and 
had no more time to answer questions. But 
while the vessel flew faster and faster towards 
Crete, Theseus was astonished to behold a hu¬ 
man figure, gigantic in size, which appeared to 
be striding with a measured movement along 
the margin of the island. It stepped from cliff 
to cliff, and sometimes from one headland to 
another, while the sea foamed and thundered on 
the shore beneath, and dashed its jets of spray 
over the giant’s feet. What was still more 
remarkable, whenever the sun shone on this 
huge figure, it flickered and glimmered; its 
vast countenance, too, had a metallic lustre, and 
threw great flashes of splendor through the air. 
The folds of its garments, moreover, instead of 
waving in the wind, fell heavily over its limbs, 
as if woven of some kind of metal. 

The nigher the vessel came, the more The¬ 
seus wondered what this immense giant could 
be, and whether it actually had life or no. For 
though it walked, and made other lifelike mo¬ 
tions, there yet was a kind of jerk in its gait, 
which, together with its brazen aspect, caused 
the young prince to suspect that it was no true 
giant, but only a wonderful piece of machinery. 
The figure looked all the more terrible because 
it carried an enormous brass club on its shoul¬ 
der. 

“ What is this wonder ? ” Theseus asked 
270 


THE MINOTAUR 


of the master of the vessel, who was now at lei¬ 
sure to answer him. 

<c It is Talus, the Man of Brass,” said the 
master. 

“ And is he a live giant, or a brazen image ? ” 
asked Theseus. 

“That, truly,” replied the master, “is the 
point which has always perplexed me. Some 
say, indeed, that this Talus was hammered out 
for King Minos by Vulcan himself, the skilful- 
lest of all workers in metal. But who ever saw 
a brazen image that had sense enough to walk 
round an island three times a day, as this giant 
walks round the island of Crete, challenging 
every vessel that comes nigh the shore ? And, 
on the other hand, what living thing, unless his 
sinews were made of brass, would not be weary 
of marching eighteen hundred miles in the 
twenty-four hours, as Talus does, without ever 
sitting down to rest? He is a puzzler, take 
him how you will.” 

Still the vessel went bounding onward; and 
now Theseus could hear the brazen clangor of 
the giant’s footsteps, as he trod heavily upon the 
sea-beaten rocks, some of which were seen to 
crack and crumble into the foamy waves beneath 
his weight. As they approached the entrance 
of the port, the giant straddled clear across it, 
with a foot firmly planted on each headland, and 
uplifting his club to such a height that its butt- 
271 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


end was hidden in a cloud, he stood in that for¬ 
midable posture, with the sun gleaming all over 
his metallic surface. There seemed nothing 
else to be expected but that, the next moment, 
he would fetch his great club down, slam bang, 
and smash the vessel into a thousand pieces, 
without heeding how many innocent people he 
might destroy; for there is seldom any mercy 
in a giant, you know, and quite as little in a 
piece of brass clockwork. But just when The¬ 
seus and his companions thought the blow was 
coming, the brazen lips unclosed themselves, 
and the figure spoke. 

“ Whence come you, strangers ? ” 

And when the ringing voice ceased, there was 
just such a reverberation as you may have heard 
within a great church bell, for a moment or two 
after the stroke of the hammer. 

“ From Athens ! ” shouted the master in re- 
ply. 

“ On what errand ? ” thundered the Man of 
Brass. 

And he whirled his club aloft more threaten¬ 
ingly than ever, as if he were about to smite 
them with a thunder-stroke right amidships, 
because Athens, so little while ago, had been at 
war with Crete. 

“We bring the seven youths and the seven 
maidens,” answered the master, “ to be devoured 
by the Minotaur ! ” 


272 


THE MINOTAUR 


<c Pass ! ” cried the brazen giant. 

That one loud word rolled all about the sky, 
while again there was a booming reverberation 
within the figure’s breast. The vessel glided 
between the headlands of the port, and the giant 
resumed his march. In a few moments this 
wondrous sentinel was far away, flashing in the 
distant sunshine, and revolving with immense 
strides around the island of Crete, as it was his 
never-ceasing task to do. 

No sooner had they entered the harbor than 
a party of the guards of King Minos came 
down to the water-side, and took charge of the 
fourteen young men and damsels. Surrounded 
by these armed warriors, Prince Theseus and 
his companions were led to the king’s palace 
and ushered into his presence. Now, Minos 
was a stern and pitiless king. If the figure that 
guarded Crete was made of brass, then the mon¬ 
arch who ruled over it might be thought to 
have a still harder metal in his breast, and might 
have been called a man of iron. He bent his 
shaggy brows upon the poor Athenian victims. 
Any other mortal, beholding their fresh and ten¬ 
der beauty and their innocent looks, would have 
felt himself sitting on thorns until he had made 
every soul of them happy, by bidding them go 
free as the summer wind. But this immitigable 
Minos cared only to examine whether they were 
plump enough to satisfy the Minotaur’s appe- 
2 73 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


tite. For my part, I wish he himself had been 
the only victim; and the monster would have 
found him a pretty tough one. 

One after another. King Minos called these 
pale, frightened youths and sobbing maidens 
to his footstool, gave them each a poke in the 
ribs with his sceptre (to try whether they were 
in good flesh or no), and dismissed them with a 
nod to his guards. But when his eyes rested 
on Theseus, the king looked at him more atten¬ 
tively, because his face was calm and brave. 

“ Young man,” asked he, with his stern voice, 
“ are you not appalled at the certainty of being 
devoured by this terrible Minotaur ? ” 

“ I have offered my life in a good cause,” an¬ 
swered Theseus, “and therefore I give it freely 
and gladly. But thou, King Minos, art thou 
not thyself appalled, who, year after year, hast 
perpetrated this dreadful wrong, by giving seven 
innocent youths and as many maidens to be de¬ 
voured by a monster ? Dost thou not tremble, 
wicked king, to turn thine eyes inward on thine 
own heart ? Sitting there on thy golden throne, 
and in thy robes of majesty, I tell thee to thy 
face, King Minos, thou art a more hideous mon¬ 
ster than the Minotaur himself! ” 

“ Aha ! do you think me so ? f1 cried the 
king, laughing in his cruel way. “ To-morrow, 
at breakfast-time, you shall have an opportunity 
274 


THE MINOTAUR 


of judging which is the greater monster, the Min¬ 
otaur or the king! Take them away, guards; 
and let this free-spoken youth be the Minotaur’s 
first morsel ! ” 

Near the king’s throne (though I had no 
time to tell you so before) stood his daughter 
Ariadne. She was a beautiful and tender-hearted 
maiden, and looked at these poor doomed cap¬ 
tives with very different feelings from those of 
the iron-breasted King Minos. She really wept, 
indeed, at the idea of how much human happi¬ 
ness would be needlessly thrown away, by giv¬ 
ing so many young people, in the first bloom 
and rose blossom of their lives, to be eaten up 
by a creature who, no doubt, would have pre¬ 
ferred a fat ox, or even a large pig, to the plump¬ 
est of them. And when she beheld the brave, 
spirited figure of Prince Theseus bearing him¬ 
self so calmly in his terrible peril, she grew a 
hundred times more pitiful than before. As the 
guards were taking him away, she flung herself 
at the king’s feet, and besought him to set all 
the captives free, and especially this one young 
man. 

“ Peace, foolish girl! ” answered King Minos. 
“ What hast thou to do with an affair like this ? 
It is a matter of state policy, and therefore quite 
beyond thy weak comprehension. Go water thy 
flowers, and think no more of these Athenian 
275 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


caitiffs, whom the Minotaur shall as certainly eat 
up for breakfast as I will eat a partridge for my 
supper/’ 

So saying, the king looked cruel enough to 
devour Theseus and all the rest of the captives, 
himself, had there been no Minotaur to save 
him the trouble. As he would hear not another 
word in their favor, the prisoners were now led 
away and clapped into a dungeon, where the 
jailer advised them to go to sleep as soon as pos¬ 
sible, because the Minotaur was in the habit of 
calling for breakfast early. The seven maidens 
and six of the young men soon sobbed them¬ 
selves to slumber! But Theseus was not like 
them. He felt conscious that he was wiser and 
braver and stronger than his companions, and 
that therefore he had the responsibility of all 
their lives upon him, and must consider whether 
there was no way to save them, even in this last 
extremity. So he kept himself awake, and paced 
to and fro across the gloomy dungeon in which 
they were shut up. 

Just before midnight the door was softly un¬ 
barred, and the gentle Ariadne showed herself, 
with a torch in her hand. 

“ Are you awake. Prince Theseus ? ” she 
whispered. 

“Yes,” answered Theseus. “With so little 
time to live, I do not choose to waste any of it 
in sleep.” 


276 


THE MINOTAUR 


“ Then follow me,” said Ariadne, “ and tread 
softly.” 

What had become of the jailer and the guards, 
Theseus never knew. But however that might 
be, Ariadne opened all the doors, and led him 
forth from the darksome prison into the plea¬ 
sant moonlight. 

“Theseus,” said the maiden, “you can now 
get on board your vessel, and sail away for 
Athens.” 

“ No,” answered the young man; “ I will 
never leave Crete unless I can first slay the Min¬ 
otaur, and save my poor companions, and de¬ 
liver Athens from this cruel tribute.” 

“ I knew that this would be your resolution,” 
said Ariadne. “ Come then with me, brave 
Theseus. Here is your own sword, which the 
guards deprived you of. You will need it; and 
pray Heaven you may use it well.” 

Then she led Theseus along by the hand 
until they came to a dark, shadowy grove, where 
the moonlight wasted itself on the tops of the 
trees, without shedding hardly so much as a 
glimmering beam upon their pathway. After 
going a good way through this obscurity, they 
reached a high, marble wall, which was over¬ 
grown with creeping plants, that made it shaggy 
with their verdure. The wall seemed to have 
no door, nor any windows, but rose up, lofty, 
and massive, and mysterious, and was neither to 
277 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


be clambered over, nor, so far as Theseus could 
perceive, to be passed through. Nevertheless, 
Ariadne did but press one of her soft little fin¬ 
gers against a particular block of marble, and, 
though it looked as solid as any other part of 
the wall, it yielded to her touch, disclosing an 
entrance just wide enough to admit them. They 
crept through, and the marble stone swung back 
into its place. 

“ We are now/’ said Ariadne, “ in the famous 
labyrinth which Daedalus built before he made 
himself a pair of wings, and flew away from our 
island like a bird. That Daedalus was a very 
cunning workman; but of all his artful con¬ 
trivances this labyrinth is the most wondrous. 
Were we to take but a few steps from the door¬ 
way, we might wander about all our lifetime, 
and never find it again. Yet in the very centre 
of this labyrinth is the Minotaur; and, Theseus, 
you must go thither to seek him.” 

“ But how shall I ever find him,” asked The¬ 
seus, “ if the labyrinth so bewilders me as you 
say it will ? ” 

Just as he spoke they heard a rough and very 
disagreeable roar, which greatly resembled the 
lowing of a fierce bull, but yet had some sort of 
sound like the human voice. Theseus even fan¬ 
cied a rude articulation in it, as if the creature 
that uttered it were trying to shape his hoarse 
breath into words. It was at some distance, 
278 


THE MINOTAUR 


however, and he really could not tell whether 
it sounded most like a bull’s roar or a man’s 
harsh voice. 

“ That is the Minotaur’s noise,” whispered 
Ariadne, closely grasping the hand of Theseus, 
and pressing one of her own hands to her heart, 
which was all in a tremble. “ You must follow 
that sound through the windings of the laby¬ 
rinth, and by and by you will find him. Stay! 
take the end of this silken string; I will hold 
the other end ; and then, if you win the victory, 
it will lead you again to this spot. Farewell, 
brave Theseus.” 

So the young man took the end of the silken 
string in his left hand, and his gold-hilted 
sword, ready drawn from its scabbard, in the 
other, and trod boldly into the inscrutable laby¬ 
rinth. How this labyrinth was built is more 
than I can tell you. But so cunningly contrived 
a mizmaze was never seen in the world, before 
nor since. There can be nothing else so intri¬ 
cate, unless it were the brain of a man like Daed¬ 
alus, who planned it, or the heart of any ordi¬ 
nary man ; which last, to be sure, is ten times 
as great a mystery as the labyrinth of Crete. 
Theseus had not taken five steps before he lost 
sight of Ariadne ; and in five more his head was 
growing dizzy. But still he went on, now creep¬ 
ing through a low arch, now ascending a flight 
of steps, now in one crooked passage and now 
279 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


in another, with here a door opening before him, 
and there one banging behind, until it really 
seemed as if the walls spun round, and whirled 
him round along with them. And all the while, 
through these hollow avenues, now nearer, now 
farther off again, resounded the cry of the Min¬ 
otaur ; and the sound was so fierce, so cruel, so 
ugly,— so like a bull’s roar, and withal so like 
a human voice, and yet like neither of them, — 
that the brave heart of Theseus grew sterner 
and angrier at every step; for he felt it an insult 
to the moon and sky, and to our affectionate 
and simple Mother Earth, that such a monster 
should have the audacity to exist. 

As he passed onward, the clouds gathered 
over the moon, and the labyrinth grew so 
dusky that Theseus could no longer discern the 
bewilderment through which he was passing. 
He would have felt quite lost, and utterly hope¬ 
less of ever again walking in a straight path, if 
every little while he had not been conscious of 
a gentle twitch at the silken cord. Then he 
knew that the tender-hearted Ariadne was still 
holding the other end, and that she was fearing 
for him, and hoping for him, and giving him 
just as much of her sympathy as if she were 
close by his side. O, indeed, I can assure you, 
there was a vast deal of human sympathy Tun¬ 
ing along that slender thread of silk. But still 
he followed the dreadful roar of the Minotaur, 
280 


THE MINOTAUR 


which now grew louder and louder, and finally 
so very loud that Theseus fully expected to 
come close upon him, at every new zigzag and 
wriggle of the path. And at last, in an open 
space, at the very centre of the labyrinth, he 
did discern the hideous creature. 

Sure enough, what an ugly monster it was ! 
Only his horned head belonged to a bull; and 
yet, somehow or other, he looked like a bull all 
over, preposterously waddling on his hind legs ; 
or, if you happened to view him in another way, 
he seemed wholly a man, and all the more mon¬ 
strous for being so. And there he was, the 
wretched thing, with no society, no companion, 
no kind of a mate, living only to do mischief, 
and incapable of knowing what affection means. 
Theseus hated him, and shuddered at him, and 
yet could not but be sensible of some sort of 
pity; and all the more, the uglier and more de¬ 
testable the creature was. For he kept striding 
to and fro in a solitary frenzy of rage, contin¬ 
ually emitting a hoarse roar, which was oddly 
mixed up with half-shaped words; and, after 
listening awhile, Theseus understood that the 
Minotaur was saying to himself how miserable 
he was, and how hungry, and how he hated 
everybody, and how he longed to eat up the 
human race alive. 

Ah, the bull-headed villain ! And O, my 
good little people, you will perhaps see, one of 
281 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


these days, as I do now, that every human be¬ 
ing who suffers anything evil to get into his 
nature, or to remain there, is a kind of Mino¬ 
taur, an enemy of his fellow creatures, and sep¬ 
arated from all good companionship, as this 
poor monster was. 

Was Theseus afraid ? By no means, my dear 
auditors. What! a hero like Theseus afraid ! 
Not had the Minotaur had twenty bull heads 
instead of one. Bold as he was, however, I 
rather fancy that it strengthened his valiant 
heart, just at this crisis, to feel a tremulous 
twitch at the silken cord, which he was still 
holding in his left hand. It was as if Ariadne 
were giving him all her might and courage; 
and, much as he already had, and little as she 
had to give, it made his own seem twice as 
much. And to confess the honest truth, he 
needed the whole ; for now the Minotaur, turn¬ 
ing suddenly about, caught sight of Theseus, 
and instantly lowered his horribly sharp horps, 
exactly as a mad bull does when he means to 
rush against an enemy. At the same time, he 
belched forth a tremendous roar, in which there 
was something like the words of human lan¬ 
guage, but all disjointed and shaken to pieces 
by passing through the gullet of a miserably 
enraged brute. 

Theseus could only guess what the creature 
intended to say,, and that rather by his gestures 
282 


THE MINOTAUR 


than his words ; for the Minotaur’s horns were 
sharper than his wits, and of a great deal more 
service to him than his tongue. But probably 
this was the sense of what he uttered : — 

“ Ah, wretch of a human being ! I ’ll stick 
my horns through you, and toss you fifty feet 
high, and eat you up the moment you come 
down.” 

“ Come on, then, and try it! ” was all that 
Theseus deigned to reply; for he was far too 
magnanimous to assault his enemy with inso¬ 
lent language. 

Without more words on either side, there 
ensued the most awful fight between Theseus 
and the Minotaur that ever happened beneath 
the sun or moon. I really know not how it 
might have turned out, if the monster, in his 
first headlong rush against Theseus, had not 
missed him by a hair’s breadth, and broken one 
of his horns short off against the stone wall. 
On this mishap, he bellowed so intolerably that 
a part of the labyrinth tumbled down, and all 
the inhabitants of Crete mistook the noise for 
an uncommonly heavy thunder-storm. Smart¬ 
ing with the pain, he galloped around the open 
space in so ridiculous a way that Theseus 
laughed at it long afterwards, though not pre¬ 
cisely at the moment. After this, the two an¬ 
tagonists stood valiantly up to one another, and 
fought, sword to horn, for a long while. At last 
283 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


the Minotaur made a run at Theseus, grazed 
his left side with his horn, and flung him down; 
and thinking that he had stabbed him to the 
heart, he cut a great caper in the air, opened 
his bull mouth from ear to ear, and prepared to 
snap his head off. But Theseus by this time 
had leaped up, and caught the monster off his 
guard. Fetching a sword-stroke at him with 
all his force, he hit him fair upon the neck, and 
made his bull head skip six yards from his 
human body, which fell down flat upon the 
ground. 

So now the battle was ended. Immediately 
the moon shone out as brightly as if all the 
troubles of the world, and all the wickedness 
and the ugliness that infest human life, were 
past and gone forever. And Theseus, as he 
leaned on his sword, taking breath, felt another 
twitch of the silken cord ; for all through the 
terrible encounter he had held it fast in his left 
hand. Eager to let Ariadne know of his suc¬ 
cess, he followed the guidance of the thread, and 
soon found himself at the entrance of the laby¬ 
rinth. 

“ Thou hast slain the monster,” cried Ari¬ 
adne, clasping her hands. 

“ Thanks to thee, dear Ariadne,” answered 
Theseus, “ I return victorious.” 

“Then,” said Ariadne, “we must quickly 
summon thy friends, and get them and thyself 
284 


Theseus caught the monster off his guard 












































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* 


% 






THE MINOTAUR 


on board the vessel before dawn. If morning 
finds thee here, my father will avenge the Mino¬ 
taur.” 

To make my story short, the poor captives 
were awakened, and, hardly knowing whether 
it was not a joyful dream, were told of what 
Theseus had done, and that they must set sail 
for Athens before daybreak. Hastening down 
to the vessel, they all clambered on board, ex¬ 
cept Prince Theseus, who lingered behind them, 
on the strand, holding Ariadne’s hand clasped 
in his own. 

“ Dear maiden,” said he, “ thou wilt surely 
go with us. Thou art too gentle and sweet a 
child for such an iron-hearted father as King 
Minos. He cares no more for thee than a 
granite rock cares for the little flower that grows 
in one of its crevices. But my father, King 
Aegeus, and my dear mother, iEthra, and all 
the fathers and mothers in Athens, and all the 
sons and daughters too, will love and honor 
thee as their benefactress. Come with us, then ; 
for King Minos will be very angry when he 
knows what thou hast done.” 

Now, some low-minded people, who pretend 
to tell the story of Theseus and Ariadne, have 
the face to say that this royal and honorable 
maiden did really flee away, under cover of the 
night, with the young stranger whose life she 
had preserved. They say, too, that Prince The- 
285 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


seus (who would have died sooner than wrong 
the meanest creature in the world) ungratefully 
deserted Ariadne, on a solitary island, where the 
vessel touched on its voyage to Athens. But, 
had the noble Theseus heard these falsehoods, 
he would have served their slanderous authors 
as he served the Minotaur ! Here is what 
Ariadne answered, when the brave Prince of 
Athens besought her to accompany him : — 

“ No, Theseus,” the maiden said, pressing 
his hand, and then drawing back a step or two, 
“ I cannot go with you. My father is old, and 
has nobody but myself to love him. Hard as 
you think his heart is, it would break to lose 
me. At first King Minos will be angry ; but he 
will soon forgive his only child ; and by and 
by he will rejoice, I know, that no more youths 
and maidens must come from Athens to be de¬ 
voured by the Minotaur. I have saved you, 
Theseus, as much for my father’s sake as for 
your own. Farewell! Heaven bless you 1 ” 
All this was so true, and so maiden-like, and 
was spoken with so sweet a dignity, that The¬ 
seus would have blushed to urge her any longer. 
Nothing remained for him, therefore, but to 
bid Ariadne an affectionate farewell, and go on 
board the vessel, and set sail. 

In a few moments the white foam was boiling 
up before their prow, as Prince Theseus and his 
companions sailed out of the harbor with a whis- 
286 


THE MINOTAUR 

ding breeze behind them. Talus, the brazen 
giant, on his never-ceasing sentinel’s march, hap¬ 
pened to be approaching that part of the coast; 
and they saw him, by the glimmering of the 
moonbeams on his polished surface, while he 
was yet a great way off. As the figure moved 
like clockwork, however, and could neither has¬ 
ten his enormous strides nor retard them, he 
arrived at the port when they were just beyond 
the reach of his club. Nevertheless, straddling 
from headland to headland, as his custom was, 
Talus attempted to strike a blow at the vessel, 
and, overreaching himself, tumbled at full length 
into the sea, which splashed high over his gigan¬ 
tic shape, as when an iceberg turns a somer¬ 
set. There he lies yet; and whoever desires 
to enrich himself by means of brass had bet¬ 
ter go thither with a diving-bell, and fish up 
Talus. 

On the homeward voyage, the fourteen youths 
and damsels were in excellent spirits, as you will 
easily suppose. They spent most of their time 
in dancing, unless when the sidelong breeze 
made the deck slope too much. In due season 
they came within sight of the coast of Attica, 
which was their native country. But here, I 
am grieved to tell you, happened a sad mis¬ 
fortune. 

You will remember (what Theseus unfortu¬ 
nately forgot) that his father, King iEgeus, had 
287 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


enjoined it upon him to hoist sunshine sails, in¬ 
stead of black ones, in case he should overcome 
the Minotaur, and return victorious. In the 
joy of their success, however, and amidst the 
sports, dancing, and other merriment, with 
which these young folks wore away the time, 
they never once thought whether their sails were 
black, white, or rainbow colored, and, indeed, 
left it entirely to the mariners whether they had 
any sails at all. Thus the vessel returned, like 
a raven, with the same sable wings that had 
wafted her away. But poor King iEgeus, day 
after day, infirm as he was, had clambered to 
the summit of a cliff that overhung the sea, and 
there sat watching for Prince Theseus, home¬ 
ward bound; and no sooner did he behold the 
fatal blackness of the sails, than he concluded 
that his dear son, whom he loved so much, and 
felt so proud of, had been eaten by the Mino¬ 
taur. He could not bear the thought of living 
any longer; so, first flinging his crown and 
sceptre into the sea (useless baubles that they 
were to him now !) King iEgeus merely stooped 
forward, and fell headlong over the cliff, and was 
drowned, poor soul, in the waves that foamed 
at its base ! 

This was melancholy news for Prince The¬ 
seus, who, when he stepped ashore, found him¬ 
self king of all the country, whether he would 
or no; and such a turn of fortune was enough 
288 


THE MINOTAUR 

to make any young man feel very much out of 
spirits. However, he sent for his dear mother 
to Athens, and, by taking her advice in matters 
of state, became a very excellent monarch, and 
was greatly beloved by his people. 

289 


THE PYGMIES 


jREAT while ago, when the world was 



full of wonders, there lived an earth- 


born Giant named Antaeus, and a mil¬ 
lion or more of curious little earth-born people 
who were called Pygmies. This Giant and 
these Pygmies being children of the same mo¬ 
ther (that is to say, our good old Grandmother 
Earth), were all brethren and dwelt together in 
a very friendly and affectionate manner, far, far 
off in the middle of hot Africa. The Pygmies 
were so small, and there were so many sandy 
deserts and such high mountains between them 
and the rest of mankind, that nobody could get 
a peep at them oftener than once in a hundred 
years. As for the Giant, being of a very lofty 
stature, it was easy enough to see him, but safest 
to keep out of his sight. 

Among the Pygmies, I suppose, if one of 
them grew to the height of six or eight inches, 
he was reckoned a prodigiously tall man. It 
must have been very pretty to behold their lit¬ 
tle cities — with streets two or three feet wide, 
paved with the smallest pebbles, and bordered 
by habitations about as big as a squirrel’s cage. 
The king’s palace attained to the stupendous 


290 


THE PYGMIES 


magnitude of Periwinkle's baby-house, and 
stood in the centre of a spacious square which 
could hardly have been covered by our hearth¬ 
rug. Their principal temple, or cathedral, was 
as lofty as yonder bureau, and was looked upon 
as a wonderfully sublime and magnificent edi¬ 
fice. All these structures were built neither of 
stone nor wood. They were neatly plastered 
together by the Pygmy workmen, pretty much 
like bird’s nests, out of straw, feathers, eggshells, 
and other small bits of stuff, with stiff clay in¬ 
stead of mortar ; and when the hot sun had 
dried them, they were just as snug and comfort¬ 
able as a Pygmy could desire. 

The country round about was conveniently 
laid out in fields, the largest of which was nearly 
of the same extent as one of Sweet Fern’s flower 
beds. Here the Pygmies used to plant wheat 
and other kinds of grain, which, when it grew 
up and ripened, overshadowed these tiny people, 
as the pines, and the oaks, and the walnut and 
chestnut trees overshadow you and me, when 
we walk in our own tracts of woodland. At 
harvest-time, they were forced to go with their 
little axes and cut down the grain, exactly as a 
woodcutter makes a clearing in the forest; and 
when a stalk of wheat, with its overburdened 
top, chanced to come crashing down upon an 
unfortunate Pygmy, it was apt to be a very sad 
affair. If it did not smash him all to pieces, at 
291 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


least, I am sure, it must have made the poor 
little fellow’s head ache. And O my stars ! if 
the fathers and mothers were so small, what 
must the children and babies have been ? A 
whole family of them might have been put to 
bed in a shoe, or have crept into an old glove 
and played at hide and seek in its thumb and 
fingers. You might have hidden a year-old 
baby under a thimble. 

Now these funny Pygmies, as I told you be¬ 
fore, had a Giant for their neighbor and brother, 
who was bigger, if possible, than they were little. 
He was so very tall that he carried a pine-tree, 
which was eight feet through the butt, for a 
walking-stick. It took a far-sighted Pygmy, I 
can assure you, to discern his summit without 
the help of a telescope; and sometimes, in misty 
weather, they could not see his upper half, but 
only his long legs, which seemed to be striding 
about by themselves. But at noonday, in a clear 
atmosphere, when the sun shone brightly over 
him, the Giant Antaeus presented a very grand 
spectacle. There he used to stand, a perfect 
mountain of a man, with his great countenance 
smiling down upon his little brothers, and his 
one vast eye (which was as big as a cart-wheel, 
and placed right in the centre of his forehead) 
giving a friendly wink to the whole nation at once. 

The Pygmies loved to talk with Antaeus ; 
and fifty times a day, one or another of them 
292 


THE PYGMIES 


would turn up his head, and shout through the 
hollow of his fists, “ Halloo, brother Antaeus ! 
How are you, my good fellow ? ” and when the 
small, distant squeak of their voices reached his 
ear, the Giant would make answer, “ Pretty 
well, brother Pygmy, I thank you,’’ in a thun¬ 
derous roar that would have shaken down the 
walls of their strongest temple, only that it came 
from so far aloft. 

It was a happy circumstance that Antaeus was 
the Pygmy people’s friend ; for there was more 
strength in his little finger than in ten million 
of such bodies as theirs. If he had been as ill 
natured to them as he was to everybody else, 
he might have beaten down their biggest city 
at one kick, and hardly have known that he did 
it. With the tornado of his breath, he could 
have stripped the roofs from a hundred dwell¬ 
ings, and sent thousands of the inhabitants 
whirling through the air. He might have set 
his immense foot upon a multitude; and when 
he took it up again, there would have been a 
pitiful sight, to be sure. But, being the son of 
Mother Earth, as they likewise were, the Giant 
gave them his brotherly kindness, and loved 
them with as big a love as it was possible to feel 
for creatures so very small. And, on their parts, 
the Pygmies loved Antaeus with as much affec¬ 
tion as their tiny hearts could hold. He was 
always ready to do them any good offices that 
293 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


lay in his power; as, for example, when they 
wanted a breeze to turn their windmills, the 
Giant would set all the sails a-going with the 
mere natural respiration of his lungs. When 
the sun was too hot, he often sat himself down, 
and let his shadow fall over the kingdom, from 
one frontier to the other; and as for matters in 
general, he was wise enough to let them alone, 
and leave the Pygmies to manage their own af¬ 
fairs, — which, after all, is about the best thing 
that great people can do for little ones. 

In short, as I said before, Antaeus loved the 
Pygmies, and the Pygmies loved Antaeus. The 
Giant’s life being as long as his body was large, 
while the lifetime of a Pygmy was but a span, 
this friendly intercourse had been going on for 
innumerable generations and ages. It was writ¬ 
ten about in the Pygmy histories, and talked 
about in their ancient traditions. The most 
venerable and white-bearded Pygmy had never 
heard of a time, even in his greatest of grand¬ 
father’s days, when the Giant was not their 
enormous friend. Once, to be sure (as was 
recorded on an obelisk, three feet high, erected 
on the place of the catastrophe), Antaeus sat 
down upon about five thousand Pygmies, who 
were assembled at a military review. But this 
was one of those unlucky accidents for which 
nobody is to blame; so that the small folks 
294 


THE PYGMIES 


never took it to heart, and only requested the 
Giant to be careful forever afterwards to exam¬ 
ine the acre of ground where he intended to 
squat himself. 

It is a very pleasant picture to imagine An¬ 
taeus standing among the Pygmies, like the spire 
of the tallest cathedral that ever was built, while 
they ran about like pismires at his feet; and to 
think that, in spite of their difference in size, 
there were affection and sympathy between them 
and him ! Indeed, it has always seemed to me 
that the Giant needed the little people more 
than the Pygmies needed the Giant. For, 
unless they had been his neighbors and well- 
wishers, and, as we may say, his playfellows, 
Antaeus would not have had a single friend in 
the world. No other being like himself had 
ever been created. No creature of his own size 
had ever talked with him, in thunder-like ac¬ 
cents, face to face. When he stood with his head 
among the clouds, he was quite alone, and had 
been so for hundreds of years, and would be so 
forever. Even if he had met another Giant, 
Antaeus would have fancied the world not big 
enough for two such vast personages, and, in¬ 
stead of being friends with him, would have 
fought him till one of the two was killed. But 
with the Pygmies he was the most sportive, and 
humorous, and merry-hearted, and sweet-tem- 
295 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


pered old Giant that ever washed his face in a 
wet cloud. 

His little friends, like all other small people, 
had a great opinion of their own importance, 
and used to assume quite a patronizing air to¬ 
wards the Giant. 

“Poor creature ! ” they said one to another. 
“ He has a very dull time of it, all by himself; 
and we ought not to grudge wasting a little of 
our precious time to amuse him. He is not 
half so bright as we are, to be sure; and, for 
that reason, he needs us to look after his com¬ 
fort and happiness. Let us be kind to the old 
fellow. Why, if Mother Earth had not been 
very kind to ourselves, we might all have been 
Giants too. ,, 

On all their holidays, the Pygmies had excel¬ 
lent sport with Antaeus. He often stretched 
himself out at full length on the ground, where 
he looked like the long ridge of a hill; and it 
was a good hour’s walk, no doubt, for a short¬ 
legged Pygmy to journey from head to foot of 
the Giant. He would lay down his great hand 
flat on the grass, and challenge the tallest of 
them to clamber upon it, and straddle from fin¬ 
ger to finger. So fearless were they, that they 
made nothing of creeping in among the folds of 
his garments. When his head lay sidewise on 
the earth, they would march boldly up, and peep 
into the great cavern of his mouth, and take it 
296 


THE PYGMIES 


all as a joke (as indeed it was meant) when An¬ 
taeus gave a sudden snap with his jaws, as if he 
were going to swallow fifty of them at once. 
You would have laughed to see the children 
dodging in and out among his hair, or swinging 
from his beard. It is impossible to tell half of 
the funny tricks that they played with their huge 
comrade ; but I do not know that anything was 
more curious than when a party of boys were 
seen running races on his forehead, to try which 
of them could get first round the circle of his 
one great eye. It was another favorite feat with 
them to march along the bridge of his nose, and 
jump down upon his upper lip. 

If the truth must be told, they were some¬ 
times as troublesome to the Giant as a swarm 
of ants or mosquitoes, especially as they had a 
fondness for mischief, and liked to prick his skin 
with their little swords and lances, to see how 
thick and tough it was. But Antaeus took it 
all kindly enough; although, once in a while, 
when he happened to be sleepy, he would grum¬ 
ble out a peevish word or two, like the mutter¬ 
ing of a tempest, and ask them to have done 
with their nonsense. A great deal oftener, how¬ 
ever, he watched their merriment and gambols 
until his huge, heavy, clumsy wits were com¬ 
pletely stirred up by them ; and then would he 
roar out such a tremendous volume of immea¬ 
surable laughter, that the whole nation of Pyg- 
297 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


mies had to put their hands to their ears, else it 
would certainly have deafened them. 

“Ho! ho! ho!” quoth the Giant, shaking 
his mountainous sides. “What a funny thing 
it is to be little ! If I were not Antaeus, I 
should like to be a Pygmy, just for the joke’s 
sake.” 

The Pygmies had but one thing to trouble 
them in the world. They were constantly at 
war with the cranes, and had always been so, 
ever since the long-lived Giant could remember. 
From time to time very terrible battles had been 
fought, in which sometimes the little men won 
the victory, and sometimes the cranes. Accord¬ 
ing to some historians, the Pygmies used to go 
to the battle, mounted on the backs of goats and 
rams ; but such animals as these must have been 
far too big for Pygmies to ride upon; so that, 
I rather suppose, they rode on squirrel-back, or 
rabbit-back, or rat-back, or perhaps got upon 
hedgehogs, whose prickly quills would be very 
terrible to the enemy. However this might be, 
and whatever creatures the Pygmies rode upon, 
I do not doubt that they made a formidable 
appearance, armed with sword and spear, and 
bow and arrow, blowing their tiny trumpet, and 
shouting their little war-cry. They never failed 
to exhort one another to fight bravely, and 
recollect that the world had its eyes upon them; 
although, in simple truth, the only spectator was 
298 


THE PYGMIES 


the Giant Antaeus, with his one great stupid 
eye in the middle of his forehead. 

When the two armies joined battle, the cranes 
would rush forward, flapping their wings and 
stretching out their necks, and would perhaps 
snatch up some of the Pygmies crosswise in 
their beaks. Whenever this happened, it was 
truly an awful spectacle to see those little men 
of might kicking and sprawling in the air, and at 
last disappearing down the crane’s long, crooked 
throat, swallowed up alive. A hero, you know, 
must hold himself in readiness for any kind of 
fate; and doubtless the glory of the thing was 
a consolation to him, even in the crane’s giz¬ 
zard. If Antaeus observed that the battle was 
going hard against his little allies, he generally 
stopped laughing, and ran with mile-long strides 
to their assistance, flourishing his club aloft and 
shouting at the cranes, who quacked and croaked, 
and retreated as fast as they could. Then the 
Pygmy army would march homeward in tri¬ 
umph, attributing the victory entirely to their 
own valor, and to the warlike skill and strat¬ 
egy of whomsoever happened to be captain gen¬ 
eral ; and for a tedious while afterwards nothing 
would be heard of but grand processions, and 
public banquets, and brilliant illuminations, and 
shows of waxworks, with likenesses of the dis¬ 
tinguished officers as small as life. 

In the above-described warfare, if a Pygmy 
299 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


chanced to pluck out a crane’s tail-feather, it 
proved a very great feather in his cap. Once 
or twice, if you will believe me, a little man was 
made chief ruler of the nation for no other 
merit in the world than bringing home such a 
feather. 

But I have now said enough to let you see 
what a gallant little people these were, and how 
happily they and their forefathers, for nobody 
knows how many generations, had lived with the 
immeasurable Giant Antaeus. In the remaining 
part of the story, I shall tell you of a far more 
astonishing battle than any that was fought be¬ 
tween the Pygmies and the cranes. 

One day the mighty Antaeus was lolling at 
full length among his little friends. His pine- 
tree walking-stick lay on the ground close by 
his side. His head was in one part of the king¬ 
dom, and his feet extended across the bounda¬ 
ries of another part; and he was taking whatever 
comfort he could get, while the Pygmies scram¬ 
bled over him, and peeped into his cavernous 
mouth, and played among his hair. Sometimes, 
for a minute or two, the Giant dropped asleep 
and snored like the rush of a whirlwind. Dur¬ 
ing one of these little bits of slumber a Pygmy 
chanced to climb upon his shoulder, and took a 
view around the horizon, as from the summit 
of a hill; and he beheld something, a long way 
off, which made him rub the bright specks of 
300 


THE PYGMIES 


his eyes, and look sharper than before. At first 
he mistook it for a mountain, and wondered how 
it had grown up so suddenly out of the earth. 
But soon he saw the mountain move. As it 
came nearer and nearer, what should it turn out 
to be but a human shape, not so big as Antaeus, 
it is true, although a very enormous figure, in 
comparison with Pygmies, and a vast deal big¬ 
ger than the men whom we see nowadays. 

When the Pygmy was quite satisfied that his 
eyes had not deceived him, he scampered, as 
fast as his legs would carry him, to the Giant’s 
ear, and, stooping over its cavity, shouted lustily 
into it, — 

“ Halloo, brother Antaeus! Get up this min¬ 
ute, and take your pine-tree walking-stick in 
your hand. Here comes another Giant to have 
a tussle with you.” 

“ Poh, poh ! ” grumbled Antaeus, only half 
awake. “ None of your nonsense, my little fel¬ 
low ! Don’t you see I’m sleepy ? There is not 
a Giant on earth for whom I would take the 
trouble to get up.” 

But the Pygmy looked again, and now per¬ 
ceived that the stranger was coming directly 
towards the prostrate form of Antaeus. With 
every step he looked less like a blue mountain, 
and more like an immensely large man. He 
was soon so nigh that there could be no possi¬ 
ble mistake about the matter. There he was, 
3 01 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


with the sun flaming on his golden helmet, and 
flashing from his polished breastplate; he had 
a sword by his side, and a lion’s skin over his 
back, and on his right shoulder he carried a 
club, which looked bulkier and heavier than the 
pine-tree walking-stick of Antaeus. 

By this time the whole nation of Pygmies 
had seen the new wonder, and a million of them 
set up a shout, all together; so that it really 
made quite an audible squeak. 

“ Get up, Antaeus ! Bestir yourself, you lazy 
old Giant! Here comes another Giant, as 
strong as you are, to fight with you.” 

“ Nonsense, nonsense ! ” growled the sleepy 
Giant. “ I ’ll have my nap out, come who may.” 

Still the stranger drew nearer; and now the 
Pygmies could plainly discern that, if his stature 
were less lofty than the Giant’s, yet his shoul¬ 
ders were even broader. And, in truth, what 
a pair of shoulders they must have been! As 
I told you, a long while ago, they once upheld 
the sky. The Pygmies, being ten times as viva¬ 
cious as their great numskull of a brother, could 
not abide the Giant’s slow movements, and were 
determined to have him on his feet. So they 
kept shouting to him, and even went so far as 
to prick him with their swords. 

“ Get up, get up, get up ! ” they cried. “ Up 
with you, lazy bones ! The strange Giant’s club 
is bigger than your own, his shoulders are the 
302 


THE PYGMIES 

broadest, and we think him the stronger of the 
two.” 

Antaeus could not endure to have it said that 
any mortal was half so mighty as himself. This 
latter remark of the Pygmies pricked him deeper 
than their swords; and, sitting up, in rather a 
sulky humor, he gave a gape of several yards 
wide, rubbed his eye, and finally turned his stu¬ 
pid head in the direction whither his little friends 
were eagerly pointing. 

No sooner did he set eye on the stranger 
than, leaping on his feet, and seizing his walk¬ 
ing-stick, he strode a mile or two to meet him; 
all the while brandishing the sturdy pine-tree, 
so that it whistled through the air. 

“ Who are you ? ” thundered the Giant. 
“ And what do you want in my dominions ? ” 

There was one strange thing about Antaeus, 
of which I have not yet told you, lest, hearing 
of so many wonders all in a lump, you might 
not believe much more than half of them. You 
are to know, then, that whenever this redoubt¬ 
able Giant touched the ground, either with his 
hand, his foot, or any other part of his body, 
he grew stronger than ever he had been before. 
The Earth, you remember, was his mother, and 
was very fond of him, as being almost the biggest 
of her children ; and so she took this method of 
keeping him always in full vigor. Some per¬ 
sons affirm that he grew ten times stronger at 
303 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


every touch; others say that it was only twice 
as strong. But only think of it! Whenever 
Antaeus took a walk, supposing it were but ten 
miles, and that he stepped a hundred yards at 
a stride, you may try to cipher out how much 
mightier he was, on sitting down again, than 
when he first started. And whenever he flung 
himself on the earth to take a little repose, even 
if he got up the very next instant, he would be 
as strong as exactly ten just such giants as his 
former self. It was well for the world that An¬ 
taeus happened to be of a sluggish disposition, 
and liked ease better than exercise; for, if he 
had frisked about like the Pygmies, and touched 
the earth as often as they did, he would long 
ago have been strong enough to pull down the 
sky about people’s ears. But these great lub¬ 
berly fellows resemble mountains, not only in 
bulk, but in their disinclination to move. 

Any other mortal man, except the very one 
whom Antaeus had now encountered, would have 
been half frightened to death by the Giant’s fero¬ 
cious aspect and terrible voice. But the stranger 
did not seem at all disturbed. He carelessly 
lifted his club, and balanced it in his hand, mea¬ 
suring Antaeus with his eye from head to foot, 
not as if wonder-smitten at his stature, but as 
if he had seen a great many Giants before, and 
this was by no means the biggest of them. In 
fact, if the Giant had been no bigger than the 


“Who are sou ? ” thundered the giant 

W 





































































































































































































THE PYGMIES 


Pygmies (who stood pricking up their ears, and 
looking and listening to what was going for¬ 
ward), the stranger could not have been less 
afraid of him. 

“ Who are you, I say ? ” roared Antaeus again. 
“ What’s your name ? Why do you come 
hither ? Speak, you vagabond, or I ’ll try 
the thickness of your skull with my walking- 
stick.” 

“You are a very discourteous Giant,” an¬ 
swered the stranger quietly, “ and I shall prob¬ 
ably have to teach you a little civility, before 
we part. As for my name, it is Hercules. I 
have come hither because this is my most con¬ 
venient road to the garden of the Hesperides, 
whither I am going to get three of the golden 
apples for King Eurystheus.” 

<c Caitiff, you shall go no farther! ” bellowed 
Antaeus, putting on a grimmer look than be¬ 
fore ; for he had heard of the mighty Hercules, 
and hated him because he was said to be so 
strong. “ Neither shall you go back whence 
you came ! ” 

“ How will you prevent me,” asked Hercules, 
cc from going whither I please ? ” 

“ By hitting you a rap with this pine-tree 
here,” shouted Antaeus, scowling so that he 
made himself the ugliest monster in Africa. “ I 
am fifty times stronger than you ; and, now that 
I stamp my foot upon the ground, I am five 
3°5 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


hundred times stronger ! I am ashamed to kill 
such a puny little dwarf as you seem to be. I 
will make a slave of you, and you shall likewise 
be the slave of my brethren here, the Pygmies. 
So throw down your club and your other 
weapons ; and as for that lion’s skin, I intend to 
have a pair of gloves made of it.” 

“ Come and take it off my shoulders, then,” 
answered Hercules, lifting his club. 

Then the Giant, grinning with rage, strode 
tower-like towards the stranger — ten times 
strengthened at every step — and fetched a 
monstrous blow at him with his pine-tree, which 
Hercules caught upon his club; and being more 
skilful than Antaeus, he paid him back such a rap 
upon the sconce, that down tumbled the great 
lumbering man-mountain, flat upon the ground. 
The poor little Pygmies (who really never 
dreamed that anybody in the world was half so 
strong as their brother Antaeus) were a good 
deal dismayed at this. But no sooner was the 
Giant down, than up he bounced again, with 
tenfold might, and such a furious visage as was 
horrible to behold. He aimed another blow at 
Hercules, but struck awry, being blinded with 
wrath, and only hit his poor, innocent Mother 
Earth, who groaned and trembled at the stroke. 
His pine-tree went so deep into the ground, 
and stuck there so fast, that before Antaeus 
could get it out, Hercules brought down his 
306 


THE PYGMIES 


club across his shoulders with a mighty thwack, 
which made the Giant roar as if all sorts of intol¬ 
erable noises had come screeching and rum¬ 
bling out of his immeasurable lungs in that one 
cry. Away it went, over mountains and valleys, 
and, for aught I know, was heard on the other 
side of the African deserts. 

As for the Pygmies, their capital city was laid 
in ruins by the concussion and vibration of the 
air ; and, though there was uproar enough with¬ 
out their help, they all set up a shriek out of 
three millions of little throats, fancying, no 
doubt, that they swelled the Giant’s bellow by 
at least ten times as much. Meanwhile, Antaeus 
had scrambled upon his feet again, and pulled 
his pine-tree out of the earth; and, all aflame 
with fury, and more outrageously strong than 
ever, he ran at Hercules, and brought down 
another blow. 

“ This time, rascal,” shouted he, “you shall 
not escape me.” 

But once more Hercules warded off the stroke 
with his club, and the Giant’s pine-tree was shat¬ 
tered into a thousand splinters, most of which 
flew among the Pygmies, and did them more 
mischief than I like to think about. Before 
Antaeus could get out of the way, Hercules let 
drive again, and gave him another knock-down 
blow, which sent him heels over head, but served 
only to increase his already enormous and in- 
307 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


sufferable strength. As for his rage, there is no 
telling what a fiery furnace it had now got to 
be. His one eye was nothing but a circle of 
red flame. Having now no weapons but his 
fists, he doubled them up (each bigger than a 
hogshead), smote one against the other, and 
danced up and down with absolute frenzy, flour¬ 
ishing his immense arms about, as if he meant 
not merely to kill Hercules, but to smash the 
whole world to pieces. 

“ Come on ! ” roared this thundering Giant. 
“ Let me hit you but one box on the ear, and 
you *11 never have the headache again.” 

Now Hercules (though strong enough, as 
you already know, to hold the sky up) began 
to be sensible that he should never win the vic¬ 
tory, if he kept on knocking Antaeus down ; 
for, by and by, if he hit him such hard blows, 
the Giant would inevitably, by the help of his 
Mother Earth, become stronger than the mighty 
Hercules himself. So, throwing down his club, 
with which he had fought so many dreadful bat¬ 
tles, the hero stood ready to receive his antago¬ 
nist with naked arms. 

“ Step forward,” cried he. “ Since I’ve 
broken your pine-tree, we ’ll try which is the 
better man at a wrestling-match.” 

“ Aha ! then I ’ll soon satisfy you,” shouted 
the Giant; for, if there was one thing on which 
he prided himself more than another, it was his 
308 


THE PYGMIES 


skill in wrestling. “ Villain, I ’ll fling you where 
you can never pick yourself up again.” 

On came Antaeus, hopping and capering with 
the scorching heat of his rage, and getting new 
vigor wherewith to wreak his passion every time 
he hopped. But Hercules, you must under¬ 
stand, was wiser than this numskull of a Giant, 
and had thought of a way to fight him, — huge, 
earth-born monster that he was, — and to con¬ 
quer him too, in spite of all that his Mother 
Earth could do for him. Watching his oppor¬ 
tunity, as the mad Giant made a rush at him, 
Hercules caught him round the middle with 
both hands, lifted him high into the air, and 
held him aloft overhead. 

Just imagine it, my dear little friends ! What 
a spectacle it must have been, to see this mon¬ 
strous fellow sprawling in the air, face downward, 
kicking out his long legs and wriggling his whole 
vast body, like a baby when its father holds it 
at arm’s-length towards the ceiling. 

But the most wonderful thing was, that, as 
soon as Antaeus was fairly off the earth, he be¬ 
gan to lose the vigor which he had gained by 
touching it. Hercules very soon perceived that 
his troublesome enemy was growing weaker, 
both because he struggled and kicked with less 
violence, and because the thunder of his big 
voice subsided into a grumble. The truth was, 
that, unless the Giant touched Mother Earth as 
309 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


often as once in five minutes, not only his over¬ 
grown strength, but the very breath of his life, 
would depart from him. Hercules had guessed 
this secret; and it may be well for us all to re¬ 
member it, in case we should ever have to fight 
a battle with a fellow like Antaeus. For these 
earth-born creatures are only difficult to conquer 
on their own ground, but may easily be managed 
if we can contrive to lift them into a loftier and 
purer region. So it proved with the poor Giant, 
whom I am really a little sorry for, notwith¬ 
standing his uncivil way of treating strangers 
who came to visit him. 

When his strength and breath were quite 
gone, Hercules gave his huge body a toss, and 
flung it about a mile off, where it fell heavily, 
and lay with no more motion than a sand-hill. 
It was too late for the Giant’s Mother Earth to 
help him now; and I should not wonder if his 
ponderous bones were lying on the same spot 
to this very day, and were mistaken for those 
of an uncommonly large elephant. 

But, alas me! What a wailing did the poor 
little Pygmies set up when they saw their enor¬ 
mous brother treated in this terrible manner ! 
If Hercules heard their shrieks, however, he 
took no notice, and perhaps fancied them only 
the shrill, plaintive twittering of small birds that 
had been frightened from their nests by the up¬ 
roar of the battle between himself and Antaeus. 

310 


THE PYGMIES 


Indeed, his thoughts had been so much taken 
up with the Giant, that he had never once 
looked at the Pygmies, nor even knew that 
there was such a funny little nation in the world. 
And now, as he had travelled a good way, 
and was also rather weary with his exertions 
in the fight, he spread out his lion’s skin on the 
ground, and, reclining himself upon it, fell fast 
asleep. 

As soon as the Pygmies saw Hercules pre¬ 
paring for a nap, they nodded their little heads 
at one another, and winked with their little eyes. 
And when his deep, regular breathing gave them 
notice that he was asleep, they assembled to¬ 
gether in an immense crowd, spreading over a 
space of about twenty-seven feet square. One 
of their most eloquent orators (and a valiant 
warrior enough, besides, though hardly so good 
at any other weapon as he was with his tongue) 
climbed upon a toadstool, and from that elevated 
position addressed the multitude. His senti¬ 
ments were pretty much as follows ; or, at all 
events, something like this was probably the 
upshot of his speech : — 

“ Tall Pygmies and mighty little men! You 
and all of us have seen what a public calamity 
has been brought to pass, and what an insult has 
here been offered to the majesty of our nation. 
Yonder lies Antaeus, our great friend and bro¬ 
ther, slain within our territory by a miscreant 
3 11 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


who took him at disadvantage, and fought him 
(if fighting it can be called) in a way that neither 
man, nor Giant, nor Pygmy ever dreamed of 
fighting until this hour. And, adding a griev¬ 
ous contumely to the wrong already done us, 
the miscreant has now fallen asleep as quietly 
as if nothing were to be dreaded from our wrath ! 
It behooves you, fellow countrymen, to con¬ 
sider in what aspect we shall stand before the 
world, and what will be the verdict of impartial 
history, should we suffer these accumulated out¬ 
rages to go unavenged. 

“ Antaeus was our brother, born of that same 
beloved parent to whom we owe the thews and 
sinews, as well as the courageous hearts, which 
made him proud of our relationship. He was 
our faithful ally, and fell fighting as much for 
our national rights and immunities as for his 
own personal ones. We and our forefathers 
have dwelt in friendship with him, and held 
affectionate intercourse, as man to man, through 
immemorial generations. You remember how 
often our entire people have reposed in his great 
shadow, and how our little ones have played at 
hide and seek in the tangles of his hair, and how 
his mighty footsteps have familiarly gone to and 
fro among us, and never trodden upon any of 
our toes. And there lies this dear brother, 
— this sweet and amiable friend, — this brave 
and faithful ally, — this virtuous Giant, — this 
3 1 2 


THE PYGMIES 


blameless and excellent Antaeus, — dead ! Dead! 
Silent! Powerless ! A mere mountain of clay ! 
Forgive my tears! Nay, I behold your own ! 
Were we to drown the world with them, could 
the world blame us ? 

“ But to resume : Shall we, my countrymen, 
suffer this wicked stranger to depart unharmed, 
and triumph in his treacherous victory among 
distant communities of the earth ? Shall we not 
rather compel him to leave his bones here on our 
soil, by the side of our slain brother’s bones, so 
that, while one skeleton shall remain as the ever¬ 
lasting monument of our sorrow, the other shall 
endure as long, exhibiting to the whole human 
race a terrible example of Pygmy vengeance ? 
Such is the question. I put it to you in full 
confidence of a response that shall be worthy 
of our national character, and calculated to in¬ 
crease, rather than diminish, the glory which our 
ancestors have transmitted to us, and which we 
ourselves have proudly vindicated in our war¬ 
fare with the cranes.” 

The orator was here interrupted by a burst 
of irrepressible enthusiasm; every individual 
Pygmy crying out that the national honor must 
be preserved at all hazards. He bowed, and, 
making a gesture for silence, wound up his ha¬ 
rangue in the following admirable manner: — 

“ It only remains for us, then, to decide 
whether we shall carry on the war in our national 
3 J 3 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


capacity, — one united people against a common 
enemy, — or whether some champion, famous 
in former fights, shall be selected to defy the 
slayer of our brother Antaeus to single combat. 
In the latter case, though not unconscious that 
there may be taller men among you, I hereby 
offer myself for that enviable duty. And be¬ 
lieve me, dear countrymen, whether I live or die, 
the honor of this great country, and the fame 
bequeathed us by our heroic progenitors, shall 
suffer no diminution in my hands. Never, while 
I can wield this sword, of which I now fling 
away the scabbard, — never, never, never, even 
if the crimson hand that slew the great Antaeus 
shall lay me prostrate, like him, on the soil 
which I give my life to defend.” 

So saying, this valiant Pygmy drew out his 
weapon (which was terrible to behold, being as 
long as the blade of a penknife), and sent the 
scabbard whirling over the heads of the multi¬ 
tude. His speech was followed by an uproar 
of applause, as its patriotism and self-devotion 
unquestionably deserved ; and the shouts and 
clapping of hands would have been greatly pro¬ 
longed had they not been rendered quite inau¬ 
dible by a deep respiration, vulgarly called a 
snore, from the sleeping Hercules. 

It was finally decided that the whole nation 
of Pygmies should set to work to destroy Her¬ 
cules; not, be it understood, from any doubt 
3H 


THE PYGMIES 

that a single champion would be capable of put¬ 
ting him to the sword, but because he was a 
public enemy, and all were desirous of sharing 
in the glory of his defeat. There was a debate 
whether the national honor did not demand that 
a herald should be sent with a trumpet, to stand 
over the ear of Hercules, and, after blowing a 
blast right into it, to defy him to the combat 
by formal proclamation. But two or three ven¬ 
erable and sagacious Pygmies, well versed in 
state affairs, gave it as their opinion that war al¬ 
ready existed, and that it was their rightful privi¬ 
lege to take the enemy by surprise. Moreover, 
if awakened, and allowed to get upon his feet, 
Hercules might happen to do them a mischief 
before he could be beaten down again. For, 
as these sage counsellors remarked, the stran¬ 
ger’s club was really very big, and had rattled 
like a thunderbolt against the skull of Antaeus. 
So the Pygmies resolved to set aside all fool¬ 
ish punctilios, and assail their antagonist at 
once. 

Accordingly, all the fighting men of the nation 
took their weapons, and went boldly up to Her¬ 
cules, who still lay fast asleep, little dreaming 
of the harm which the Pygmies meant to do him. 
A body of twenty thousand archers marched in 
front, with their little bows all ready, and the 
arrows on the string. The same number were 
ordered to clamber upon Hercules, some with 
3*5 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


spades to dig his eyes out, and others with bun¬ 
dles of hay, and all manner of rubbish, with 
which they intended to plug up his mouth and 
nostrils, so that he might perish for lack of 
breath. These last, however, could by no means 
perform their appointed duty ; inasmuch as the 
enemy’s breath rushed out of his nose in an ob¬ 
streperous hurricane and whirlwind, which blew 
the Pygmies away as fast as they came nigh. 
It was found necessary, therefore, to hit upon 
some other method of carrying on the war. 

After holding a council, the captains ordered 
their troops to collect sticks, straws, dry weeds, 
and whatever combustible stuff they could find, 
and make a pile of it, heaping it high around 
the head of Hercules. As a great many thou¬ 
sand Pygmies were employed in this task, they 
soon brought together several bushels of inflam¬ 
matory matter, and raised so tall a heap that, 
mounting on its summit, they were quite upon 
a level with the sleeper’s face. The archers, 
meanwhile, were stationed within bow-shot, with 
orders to let fly at Hercules the instant that he 
stirred. Everything being in readiness, a torch 
was applied to the pile, which immediately burst 
into flames, and soon waxed hot enough to 
roast the enemy, had he but chosen to lie still. 
A Pygmy, you know, though so very small, 
might set the world on fire, just as easily as a Giant 
could; so that this was certainly the very best 
3i6 


THE PYGMIES 


way of dealing with their foe, provided they 
could have kept him quiet while the conflagra¬ 
tion was going forward. 

But no sooner did Hercules begin to be 
scorched, than up he started, with his hair in a 
red blaze. 

“ What’s all this ? ” he cried, bewildered with 
sleep, and staring about him as if he expected 
to see another Giant. 

At that moment the twenty thousand archers 
twanged their bowstrings, and the arrows came 
whizzing, like so many winged mosquitoes, right 
into the face of Hercules. But I doubt whether 
more than half a dozen of them punctured the 
skin, which was remarkably tough, as you know 
the skin of a hero has good need to be. 

“ Villain! ” shouted all the Pygmies at once. 
cc You have killed the Giant Antaeus, our great 
brother, and the ally of our nation. We declare 
bloody war against you and will slay you on 
the spot.” 

Surprised at the shrill piping of so many lit¬ 
tle voices, Hercules, after putting out the con¬ 
flagration of his hair, gazed all round about 
but could see nothing. At last, however, look¬ 
ing narrowly on the ground, he espied the innu¬ 
merable assemblage of Fygmies at his feet. He 
stooped down, and taking up the nearest one 
between his thumb and finger, set him on the 
palm of his left hand, and held him at a proper 
317 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


distance for examination. It chanced to be the 
very identical Pygmy who had spoken from the 
top of the toadstool, and had offered himself as 
a champion to meet Hercules in single combat. 

“ What in the world, my little fellow,” ejacu¬ 
lated Hercules, “may you be?” 

“ I am your enemy,” answered the valiant 
Pygmy, in his mightiest squeak. “ You have 
slain the enormous Antaeus, our brother by the 
mother’s side, and for ages the faithful ally of 
our illustrious nation. We are determined to 
put you to death ; and for my own part, I chal¬ 
lenge you to instant battle, on equal ground.” 

Hercules was so tickled with the Pygmy’s 
big words and warlike gestures, that he burst 
into a great explosion of laughter, and almost 
dropped the poor little mite of a creature off 
the palm of his hand, through the ecstasy and 
convulsion of his merriment. 

“ Upon my word,” cried he, “ I thought I 
had seen wonders before to-day, — hydras with 
nine heads, stags with golden horns, six-legged 
men, three-headed dogs, giants with furnaces in 
their stomachs, and nobody knows what besides. 
But here, on the palm of my hand, stands a 
wonder that outdoes them all! Your body, my 
little friend, is about the size of an ordinary 
man’s finger. Pray, how big may your soul* 
be?” 


THE PYGMIES 


“ As big as your own ! ” said the Pygmy. 

Hercules was touched with the little man's 
dauntless courage, and could not help acknow¬ 
ledging such a brotherhood with him as one 
hero feels for another. 

“ My good little people," said he, making a 
low obeisance to the grand nation, “ not for all 
the world would I do an intentional injury to 
such brave fellows as you ! Your hearts seem 
to me so exceedingly great, that, upon my honor, 
I marvel how your small bodies can contain 
them. I sue for peace, and, as a condition of 
it, will take five strides, and be out of your 
kingdom at the sixth. Good-by. I shall pick 
my steps carefully, for fear of treading upon 
some fifty of you without knowing it. Ha, 
ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! For once, Hercules 
acknowledges himself vanquished." 

Some writers say that Hercules gathered up 
the whole race of Pygmies in his lion’s skin, 
and carried them home to Greece, for the chil¬ 
dren of King Eurystheus to play with. But 
this is a mistake. He left them, one and all, 
within their own territory, where, for aught I 
can tell, their descendants are alive to the pre¬ 
sent day, building their little houses, cultivating 
their little fields, spanking their little children, 
waging their little warfare with the cranes, doing 
their little business, whatever it may bq, and 
3*9 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


reading their little histories of ancient times. In 
those histories, perhaps, it stands recorded that, 
- a great many centuries ago, the valiant Pygmies 
avenged the death of the Giant Antaeus by 
scaring away the mighty Hercules. 

320 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 



ADM US, Phoenix, and Cilix, the three 


sons of King Agenor, and their little 


sister Europa (who was a very beauti¬ 
ful child) were at play together, near the sea¬ 
shore, in their father’s kingdom of Phoenicia. 
They had rambled to some distance from the 
palace where their parents dwelt, and were now 
in a verdant meadow, on one side of which lay 
the sea, all sparkling and dimpling in the sun¬ 
shine, and murmuring gently against the beach. 
The three boys were very happy, gathering 
flowers, and twining them into garlands, with 
which they adorned the little Europa. Seated 
on the grass, the child was almost hidden under 
an abundance of buds and blossoms, whence her 
rosy face peeped merrily out, and, as Cadmus 
said, was the prettiest of all the flowers. 

Just then there came a splendid butterfly, 
fluttering along the meadow; and Cadmus, 
Phoenix, and Cilix set off in pursuit of it, crying 
out that it was a flower with wings. Europa, 
who was a little wearied with playing all day 
long, did not chase the butterfly with her bro¬ 
thers, but sat still where they had left her, and 
closed her eyes. For a while, she listened to 


3 21 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


the pleasant murmur of the sea, which was like 
a voice saying “ Hush ! ” and bidding her go 
to sleep. But the pretty child, if she slept at 
all, could not have slept more than a moment, 
when she heard something trample on the grass 
not far from her, and peeping out from the heap 
of flowers, beheld a snow-white bull. 

And whence could this bull have come ? 
Europa and her brothers had been a long time 
playing in the meadow, and had seen no cattle, 
nor other living thing, either there or on the 
neighboring hills. 

“ Brother Cadmus ! ” cried Europa, starting 
up out of the midst of the roses and lilies. 
“ Phoenix! Cilix ! Where are you all ? Help ! 
Help ! Come and drive away this bull! ” 

But her brothers were too far off to hear; 
especially as the fright took away Europa’s 
voice, and hindered her from calling very loudly. 
So there she stood, with her pretty mouth wide 
open, as pale as the white lilies that were twisted 
among the other flowers in her garlands. 

Nevertheless, it was the suddenness with 
which she had perceived the bull, rather than 
anything frightful in his appearance, that caused 
Europa so much alarm. On looking at him 
more attentively, she began to see that he was 
a beautiful animal, and even fancied a particu¬ 
larly amiable expression in his face. As for his 
breath, — the breath of cattle, you know, is 
322 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


always sweet, — it was as fragrant as if he had 
been grazing on no other food than rosebuds, 
or, at least, the most delicate of clover blossoms. 
Never before did a bull have such bright and 
tender eyes and such smooth horns of ivory, as 
this one. And the bull ran little races, and 
capered sportively around the child ; so that 
she quite forgot how big and strong he was, and, 
from the gentleness and playfulness of his ac¬ 
tions, soon came to consider him as innocent a 
creature as a pet lamb. 

Thus, frightened as she at first was, you 
might by and by have seen Europa stroking 
the bull’s forehead with her small white hand, 
and taking the garlands off her own head to 
hang them on his neck and ivory horns. Then 
she pulled up some blades of grass, and he ate 
them out of her hand, not as if he were hungry, 
but because he wanted to be friends with the 
child, and took pleasure in eating what she had 
touched. Well, my stars ! was there ever such 
a gentle, sweet, pretty, and amiable creature as 
this bull, and ever such a nice playmate for a 
little girl ? 

When the animal saw (for the bull had so 
much intelligence that it is really wonderful to 
think of), when he saw that Europa was no 
longer afraid of him, he grew overjoyed, and 
could hardly contain himself for delight. <He 
frisked about the meadow, now here, now there, 
3 2 3 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


making sprightly leaps, with as little effort as 
a bird expends in hopping from twig to twig. 
Indeed, his motion was as light as if he were 
flying through the air, and his hoofs seemed 
hardly to leave their print in the grassy soil over 
which he trod. With his spotless hue, he re¬ 
sembled a snowdrift, wafted along by the wind. 
Once he galloped so far away that Europa feared 
lest she might never see him again ; so, setting 
up her childish voice, she called him back. 

“ Come back, pretty creature ! ” she cried. 
<c Here is a nice clover blossom.” 

And then it was delightful to witness the 
gratitude of this amiable bull, and how he was 
so full of joy and thankfulness that he capered 
higher than ever. He came running, and bowed 
his head before Europa, as if he knew her to 
be a king’s daughter, or else recognized the 
important truth that a little girl is everybody’s 
queen. And not only did the bull bend his 
neck, he absolutely knelt down at her feet, and 
made such intelligent nods and other inviting 
gestures, that Europa understood what he meant 
just as well as if he had put it in so many 
words. 

“ Come, dear child,” was what he wanted to 
say, “ let me give you a ride on my back.” 

At the first thought of such a thing Europa 
drew back. But then she considered in her wise 
little head that there could be no possible harm 
3 2 4 


THE DRAGON'S TEETH 

in taking just one gallop on the back of this 
docile and friendly animal, who would certainly 
set her down the very instant she desired it. 
And how it would surprise her brothers to see 
her riding across the green meadow ! And what 
merry times they might have, either taking turns 
for a gallop, or clambering on the gentle crea¬ 
ture, all four children together, and careering 
round the field with shouts of laughter that 
would be heard as far off as King Agenor’s pal¬ 
ace ! 

“ I think I will do it,” said the child to her¬ 
self. 

And indeed, why not? She cast a glance 
around, and caught a glimpse of Cadmus, Phoe¬ 
nix, and Cilix, who were still in pursuit of the 
butterfly, almost at the other end of the meadow. 
It would be the quickest way of rejoining them 
to get upon the white bull’s back. She came a 
step nearer to him, therefore; and—sociable 
creature that he was — he showed so much joy 
at this mark of her confidence, that the child 
could not find it in her heart to hesitate any 
longer. Making one bound (for this little prin¬ 
cess was as active as a squirrel), there sat Eu- 
ropa on the beautiful bull, holding an ivory 
horn in each hand, lest she should fall off. 

“ Softly, pretty bull, softly ! ” she said, rather 
frightened at what she had done. “ Do .not 
gallop too fast.” 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


Having got the child on his back, the animal 
gave a leap into the air, and came down so like 
a feather that Europa did not know when his 
hoofs touched the ground. He then began 
a race to that part of the flowery plain where 
her three brothers were, and where they had 
just caught their splendid butterfly. Europa 
screamed with delight; and Phoenix, Cilix, and 
Cadmus stood gaping at the spectacle of their 
sister mounted on a white bull, not knowing 
whether to be frightened or to wish the same 
good luck for themselves. The gentle and in¬ 
nocent creature (for who could possibly doubt 
that he was so ?) pranced round among the chil¬ 
dren as sportively as a kitten. Europa all the 
while looked down upon her brothers, nodding 
and laughing, but yet with a sort of stateliness 
in her rosy little face. As the bull wheeled 
about to take another gallop across the meadow, 
the child waved her hand, and said, “ Good- 
by,” playfully pretending that she was now 
bound on a distant journey, and might not see 
her brothers again for nobody could tell how 
long. 

“ Good-by,” shouted Cadmus, Phoenix, and 
Cilix, all in one breath. 

But, together with her enjoyment of the 
sport, there was still a little remnant of fear in 
the child’s heart; so that her last look at the 
three boys was a troubled one, and made them 
326 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


feel as if their dear sister were really leaving 
them forever. And what do you think the 
snowy bull did next? Why, he set off, as swift 
as the wind, straight down to the seashore, 
scampered across the sand, took an airy leap 
and plunged right in among the foaming bil¬ 
lows. The white spray rose in a shower over 
him and little Europa, and fell spattering down 
upon the water. 

Then what a scream of terror did the poor 
child send forth ! The three brothers screamed 
manfully, likewise, and ran to the shore as fast 
as their legs would carry them, with Cadmus at 
their head. But it was too late. When they 
reached the margin of the sand, the treacherous 
animal was already far away in the wide blue 
sea, with only his snowy head and tail emer¬ 
ging, and poor little Europa between them, 
stretching out one hand towards her dear bro¬ 
thers, while she grasped the bull’s ivory horn 
with the other. And there stood Cadmus, Phoe¬ 
nix, and Cilix, gazing at this sad spectacle, 
through their tears, until they could no longer 
distinguish the bull’s snowy head from the 
white-capped billows that seemed to boil up out 
of the sea’s depths around him. Nothing more 
was ever seen of the white bull, — nothing more 
of the beautiful child. 

This was a mournful story, as you may well 
think, for the three boys to carry home to their 
3 2 7 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


parents. King Agenor, their father, was the 
ruler of the whole country ; but he loved his 
little daughter Europa better than his kingdom, 
or than all his other children, or than anything 
else in the world. Therefore, when Cadmus and 
his two brothers came crying home, and told 
him how that a white bull had carried off their 
sister and swam with her over the sea, the king 
was quite beside himself with grief and rage. 
Although it was now twilight, and fast growing 
dark, he bade them set out instantly in search 
of her. 

“ Never shall you see rtiy face again,” he 
cried, “ unless you bring me back my little Eu¬ 
ropa, to gladden me with her smiles and her 
pretty ways. Begone, and enter my presence 
no more, till you come leading her by the 
hand.” 

As King Agenor said this, his eyes flashed 
fire (for he was a very passionate king), and he 
looked so terribly angry that the poor boys did 
not even venture to ask for their suppers, but 
slunk away out of the palace, and only paused 
on the steps a moment to consult whither they 
should go first. While they were standing 
there all in dismay, their mother, Queen Tele- 
phassa (who happened not to be by when they 
told the story to the king), came hurrying after 
them, and said that she too would go in quest 
of her daughter. 


328 


THE DRAGON'S TEETH 


<c O no, mother ! ” cried the boys. “ The 
night is dark, and there is no knowing what 
troubles and perils we may meet with.” 

<c Alas ! my dear children,” answered poor 
Queen Telephassa, weeping bitterly, “ that is 
only another reason why I should go with you. 
If I should lose you, too, as well as my little 
Europa, what would become of me ? ” 

“ And let me go likewise ! ” said their play¬ 
fellow Thasus, who came running to join them. 

Thasus was the son of a seafaring person in 
the neighborhood; he had been brought up 
with the young princes, and was their intimate 
friend, and loved Europa very much ; so they 
consented that he should accompany them. 
The whole party, therefore, set forth together; 
Cadmus, Phoenix, Cilix, and Thasus clustered 
round Queen Telephassa, grasping her skirts, 
and begging her to lean upon their shoul¬ 
ders whenever she felt weary. In this man¬ 
ner they went down the palace steps, and began 
a journey which turned out to be a great deal 
longer than they dreamed of. The last that 
they saw of King Agenor, he came to the door, 
with a servant holding a torch beside him, 
and called after them into the gathering dark¬ 
ness : — 

“ Remember ! Never ascend these steps 
again without the child ! ” % 

“Never!” sobbed Queen Telephassa; and 

3 2 9 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


the three brothers and Thasus answered, 
“ Never ! Never ! Never ! Never ! ” 

And they kept their word. Year after year 
King Agenor sat in the solitude of his beautiful 
palace, listening in vain for their returning foot¬ 
steps, hoping to hear the familiar voice of the 
queen, and the cheerful talk of his sons and 
their playfellow Thasus, entering the door to¬ 
gether, and the sweet, childish accents of little 
Europa in the midst of them. But so long a 
time went by that, at last, if they had really 
come, the king would not have known that this 
was the voice of TelephasSa, and these the 
younger voices that used to make such joyful 
echoes when the children were playing about 
the palace. We must now leave King Agenor 
to sit on his throne, and must go along with 
Queen Telephassa and her four youthful com¬ 
panions. 

They went on and on, and travelled a long 
way, and passed over mountains and rivers and 
sailed over seas. Here, and there, and every¬ 
where, they made continual inquiry if any per¬ 
son could tell them what had become of Eu¬ 
ropa. The rustic people, of whom they asked 
this question, paused a little while from their 
labors in the field, and looked very much sur¬ 
prised. They thought it strange to behold a 
woman in the garb of a queen (for Telephassa, 
in her haste, had forgotten to take off her crown 
330 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


and her royal robes), roaming about the coun¬ 
try, with four lads around her, on such an 
errand as this seemed to be. But nobody 
could give them any tidings of Europa; no¬ 
body had seen a little girl dressed like a prin¬ 
cess, and mounted on a snow-white bull which 
galloped as swiftly as the wind. 

I cannot tell you how long Queen Telephassa, 
and Cadmus, Phoenix, and Cilix, her three sons, 
and Thasus their playfellow, went wandering 
along the highways and by-paths, or through the 
pathless wildernesses of the earth, in this man¬ 
ner. But certain it is that, before they reached 
any place of rest, their splendid garments were 
quite worn out. They all looked very much 
travel stained, and would have had the dust of 
many countries on their shoes, if the streams 
through which they waded had not washed it 
all away. When they had been gone a year, 
Telephassa threw away her crown, because it 
chafed her forehead. 

“ It has given me many a headache,” said 
the poor queen, “ and it cannot cure my heart¬ 
ache.” 

As fast as their princely robes got torn and 
tattered, they exchanged them for such mean 
attire as ordinary people wore. By and by they 
came to have a wild and homeless aspect; so 
that you would much sooner have taken them 
for a gypsy family than a queen and three princes, 
33 1 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


and a young nobleman, who had once a palace 
for their home, and a train of servants to do 
their bidding. The four boys grew up to be tall 
young men with sunburnt faces. Each of them 
girded on a sword, to defend themselves against 
the perils of the way. When the husbandmen, 
at whose farmhouses they sought hospitality, 
needed their assistance in the harvest-field, they 
gave it willingly; and Queen Telephassa (who 
had done no work in her palace, save to braid 
silk threads with golden ones) came behind them 
to bind the sheaves. If payment was offered, 
they shook their heads, and only asked for tid¬ 
ings of Europa. 

“ There are bulls enough in my pasture,” the 
old farmers would reply ; “ but I never heard 
of one like this you tell me of. A snow-white 
bull with a little princess on his back! Ho! 
ho ! I ask your pardon, good folks ; but there 
never was such a sight seen hereabouts.” 

At last, when his upper lip began to have the 
down on it, Phoenix grew weary of rambling 
hither and thither to no purpose. So one day, 
when they happened to be passing through a 
pleasant and solitary tract of country, he sat 
himself down on a heap of moss. 

cc I can go no farther,” said Phoenix. “ It is 
a mere foolish waste of life to spend it, as we 
do, in always wandering up and down and never 
coming to any home at nightfall. Our sister is 
332 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


lost, and never will be found. She probably 
perished in the sea ; or, to whatever shore the 
white bull may have carried her, it is now so 
many years ago, that there would be neither love 
nor acquaintance between us should we meet 
again. My father has forbidden us to return to 
his palace; so I shall build me a hut of branches, 
and dwell here.” 

“Well, son Phoenix,” said Telephassa sor¬ 
rowfully, “ you have grown to be a man, and 
must do as you judge best. But, for my part, 
I will still go in quest of my poor child.” 

“ And we three will go along with you ! ” 
cried Cadmus and Cilix, and their faithful friend 
Thasus. 

But, before setting out, they all helped Phoe¬ 
nix to build a habitation. When completed, it 
was a sweet rural bower, roofed overhead with 
an arch of living boughs. Inside there were two 
pleasant rooms, one of which had a soft heap of 
moss for a bed, while the other was furnished 
with a rustic seat or two, curiously fashioned 
out of the crooked roots of trees. So comfort¬ 
able and homelike did it seem, that Telephassa 
and her three companions could not help sigh¬ 
ing, to think that they must still roam about 
the world, instead of spending the remainder of 
their lives in some such cheerful abode as they 
had here built for Phoenix. But, when th^y bade 
him farewell, Phoenix shed tears, and probably 
333 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


regretted that he was no longer to keep them 
company. 

However, he had fixed upon an admirable 
place to dwell in. And by and by there came 
other people, who chanced to have no homes ; 
and, seeing how pleasant a spot it was, they 
built themselves huts in the neighborhood of 
Phoenix’s habitation. Thus, before many years 
went by, a city had grown up there, in the cen¬ 
tre of which was seen a stately palace of marble, 
wherein dwelt Phoenix, clothed in a purple robe 
and wearing a golden crown upon his head. For 
the inhabitants of the new city, finding that he 
had royal blood in his veins, had chosen him 
to be their king. The very first decree of state 
which King Phoenix issued was, that if a maiden 
happened to arrive in the kingdom, mounted 
on a snow-white bull, and calling herself Europa, 
his subjects should treat her with the greatest 
kindness and respect, and immediately bring her 
to the palace. You may see, by this, that Phoe¬ 
nix’s conscience never quite ceased to trouble 
him, for giving up the quest of his dear sister, 
and sitting himself down to be comfortable, 
while his mother and her companions went on¬ 
ward. 

But often and often, at the close of a weary 
day’s journey, did Telephassa and Cadmus, 
Cilix and Thasus, remember the pleasant spot 
in which they had left Phoenix. It was a sor- 
334 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


rowful prospect for these wanderers, that on 
the morrow they must again set forth, and that, 
after many nightfalls, they would perhaps be 
no nearer the close of their toilsome pilgrimage 
than now. These thoughts made them all mel¬ 
ancholy at times, but appeared to torment Cilix 
more than the rest of the party. At length, one 
morning, when they were taking their staffs in 
hand to set out, he thus addressed them : — 

“ My dear mother, and you good brother 
Cadmus, and my friend Thasus, methinks we 
are like people in a dream. There is no sub¬ 
stance in the life which we are leading. It is 
such a dreary length of time since the white bull 
carried off my sister Europa, that I have quite 
forgotten how she looked and the tones of her 
voice, and indeed, almost doubt whether such a 
little girl ever lived in the world. And whether 
she once lived or no, I am convinced that she 
no longer survives, and that therefore it is the 
merest folly to waste our own lives and happi¬ 
ness in seeking her. Were we to find her, she 
would now be a woman grown, and would look 
upon us all as strangers. So, to tell you the 
truth, I have resolved to take up my abode 
here ; and I entreat you, mother, brother, and 
friend, to follow my example/’ 

“ Not I, for one,” said Telephassa ; although 
the poor queen, firmly as she spoke, was so 
travel worn that she could hardly put her foot 
335 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


to the ground, — <c not I, for one! In the 
depths of my heart, little Europa is still the 
rosy child who ran to gather flowers so many 
years ago. She has not grown to womanhood, 
nor forgotten me. At noon, at night, journey¬ 
ing onward, sitting down to rest, her childish 
voice is always in my ears, calling, ‘ Mother! 
mother ! ’ Stop here who may, there is no re¬ 
pose for me.” 

“ Nor for me,” said Cadmus, £C while my dear 
mother pleases to go onward.” 

And the faithful Thasus, too, was resolved to 
bear them company. They remained with Cilix 
a few days, however, and helped him to build a 
rustic bower, resembling the one which they had 
formerly built for Phoenix. 

When they were bidding him farewell, Cilix 
burst into tears, and told his mother that it 
seemed just as melancholy a dream to stay 
there in solitude as to go onward. If she really 
believed that they would ever find Europa, he 
was willing to continue the search with them, 
even now. But Telephassa bade him remain 
there, and be happy, if his own heart would let 
him. So the pilgrims took their leave of him, 
and departed, and were hardly out of sight be¬ 
fore some other wandering people came along 
that way, and saw Cilix’s habitation, and were 
greatly delighted with the appearance of the 
place. There being abundance of unoccupied 
336 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


ground in the neighborhood, these strangers 
built huts for themselves, and were soon joined 
by a multitude of new settlers, who quickly 
formed a city. In the middle of it was seen a 
magnificent palace of colored marble, on the bal¬ 
cony of which, every noontide, appeared Cilix, 
in a long purple robe and with a jewelled crown 
upon his head; for the inhabitants, when they 
found out that he was a king’s son, had con¬ 
sidered him the fittest of all men to be a king 
himself. 

One of the first acts of King Cilix’s govern¬ 
ment was to send out an expedition, consisting 
of a grave ambassador and an escort of bold and 
hardy young men, with orders to visit the princi¬ 
pal kingdoms of the earth, and inquire whether 
a young maiden had passed through those re¬ 
gions, galloping swiftly on a white bull. It is, 
therefore, plain to my mind, that Cilix secretly 
blamed himself for giving up the search for 
Europa, as long as he was able to put one foot 
before the other. 

As for Telephassa, and Cadmus, and the good 
Thasus, it grieves me to think of them, still 
keeping up that weary pilgrimage. The two 
young men did their best for the poor queen, 
helping her over the rough places, often carry¬ 
ing her across rivulets in their faithful arms, and 
seeking to shelter her at nightfall, even when 
they themselves lay on the ground. Sad, Sad it 
337 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


was to hear them asking of every passer-by if he 
had seen Europa, so long after the white bull 
had carried her away. But, though the gray 
years thrust themselves between, and made the 
child’s figure dim in their remembrance, neither 
of these true-hearted three ever dreamed of giv¬ 
ing up the search. 

One morning, however, poor Thasus found 
that he had sprained his ankle, and could not 
possibly go a step farther. 

“After a few days, to be sure,” said he 
mournfully, “ I might make shift to hobble 
along with a stick. But that would only delay 
you, and perhaps hinder you from finding dear 
little Europa, after all your pains and trouble. 
Do you go forward, therefore, my beloved com¬ 
panions, and leave me to follow as I may.” 

“ Thou hast been a true friend, dear Thasus,” 
said Queen Telephassa, kissing his forehead. 
“ Being neither my son, nor the brother of our 
lost Europa, thou hast shown thyself truer to 
me and her than Phoenix and Cilix did, whom 
we have left behind us. Without thy loving 
help, and that of my son Cadmus, my limbs 
could not have borne me half so far as this. 
Now, take thy rest, and be at peace. For — 
and it is the first time I have owned it to my¬ 
self — I begin to question whether we shall ever 
find my beloved daughter in this world.” 

Saying this, the poor queen shed tears, be- 

338 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


cause it was a grievous trial to the mother’s 
heart to confess that her hopes were growing 
faint. From that day forward, Cadmus noticed 
that she never travelled with the same alacrity 
of spirit that had heretofore supported her. Her 
weight was heavier upon his arm. 

Before setting out, Cadmus helped Thasus 
build a bower; while Telephassa, being too in¬ 
firm to give any great assistance, advised them 
how to fit it up and furnish it, so that it might 
be as comfortable as a hut of branches could. 
Thasus, however, did not spend all his days in 
this green bower. For it happened to him, as 
to Phoenix and Cilix, that other homeless peo¬ 
ple visited the spot and liked it, and built them¬ 
selves habitations in the neighborhood. So here, 
in the course of a few years, was another thriv¬ 
ing city, with a red freestone palace in the cen¬ 
tre of it, where Thasus sat upon a throne, doing 
justice to the people, with a purple robe over 
his shoulders, a sceptre in his hand, and a crown 
upon his head. The inhabitants had made him 
king, not for the sake of any royal blood (for 
none was in his veins), but because Thasus was 
an upright, true-hearted, and courageous man, 
and therefore fit to rule. 

But, when the affairs of his kingdom were all 
settled, King Thasus laid aside his purple robe, 
and crown, and sceptre, and bade his worthiest 
subject distribute justice to the people in his 
339 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


stead. Then, grasping the pilgrim's staff that 
had supported him so long, he set forth again, 
hoping still to discover some hoof-mark of the 
snow-white bull, some trace of the vanished 
child. He returned, after a lengthened absence, 
and sat down wearily upon his throne. To his 
latest hour, nevertheless. King Thasus showed 
his true-hearted remembrance of Europa, by 
ordering that a fire should always be kept burn¬ 
ing in his palace, and a bath steaming hot, and 
food ready to be served up, and a bed with 
snow-white sheets, in case the maiden should 
arrive, and require immediate refreshment. And 
though Europa never came, the good Thasus 
had the blessings of many a poor traveller, who 
profited by the food and lodging which were 
meant for the little playmate of the king’s boy¬ 
hood. 

Telephassa and Cadmus were now pursuing 
their weary way, with no companion but each 
other. The queen leaned heavily upon her son's 
arm, and could walk only a few miles a day. 
But for all her weakness and weariness, she 
would not be persuaded to give up the search. 
It was enough to bring tears into the eyes of 
bearded men to hear the melancholy tone with 
which she inquired of every stranger whether he 
could tell her any news of the lost child. 

“ Have you seen a little girl — no, no, I mean 
a young maiden of full growth — passing by 
340 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


this way, mounted on a snow-white bull, which 
gallops as swiftly as the wind ? ” 

u We have seen no such wondrous sight,” the 
people would reply; and very often, taking 
Cadmus aside, they whispered to him, “ Is this 
stately and sad-looking woman your mother r 
Surely she is not in her right mind; and you 
ought to take her home, and make her comfort¬ 
able, and do your best to get this dream out of 
her fancy.” 

“ It is no dream,” said Cadmus. “Every¬ 
thing else is a dream, save that.” 

But, one day, Telephassa seemed feebler than 
usual, and leaned almost her whole weight on 
the arm of Cadmus, and walked more slowly 
than ever before. At last they reached a soli¬ 
tary spot, where she told her son that she must 
needs lie down, and take a good, long rest. 

“ A good, long rest! ” she repeated, looking 
Cadmus tenderly in the face, — “a good, long 
rest, thou dearest one ! ” 

“ As long as you please, dear mother,” an¬ 
swered Cadmus. 

Telephassa bade him sit down on the turf 
beside her, and then she took his hand. 

“ My son,” said she, fixing her dim eyes most 
lovingly upon him, “ this rest that I speak of 
will be very long indeed ! You must not wait 
till it is finished. Dear Cadmus, you dQ not 
comprehend me. You must make a grave here, 
34i 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


and lay your mother's weary frame into it. My 
pilgrimage is over.” 

Cadmus burst into tears, and, for a long time, 
refused to believe that his dear mother was now 
to be taken from him. But Telephassa reasoned 
with him, and kissed him, and at length made 
him discern that it was better for her spirit to 
pass away out of the toil, the weariness, the grief, 
and disappointment which had burdened her on 
earth, ever since the child was lost. He there¬ 
fore repressed his sorrow, and listened to her 
last words. 

“ Dearest Cadmus,” said she, “ thou hast been 
the truest son that ever mother had, and faith¬ 
ful to the very last. Who else would have 
borne with my infirmities as thou hast! It is 
owing to thy care, thou tenderest child, that my 
grave was not dug long years ago, in some val¬ 
ley, or on some hillside, that lies far, far behind 
us. It is enough. Thou shalt wander no more 
on this hopeless search. But when thou hast 
laid thy mother in the earth, then go, my son, 
to Delphi, and inquire of the oracle what thou 
shalt do next.” 

“ O mother, mother,” cried Cadmus, <c couldst 
thou but have seen my sister before this hour ! ” 

“ It matters little now,” answered Telephassa, 
and there was a smile upon her face. “ I go 
now to the better world, and, sooner or later, 
shall find my daughter there.” 

342 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


I will not sadden you, my little hearers, with 
telling how Telephassa died and was buried, but 
will only say, that her dying smile grew brighter, 
instead of vanishing from her dead face ; so that 
Cadmus felt convinced , that, at her very first 
step into the better world, she had caught Eu- 
ropa in her arms. He planted some flowers on 
his mother's grave, and left them to grow there, 
and make the place beautiful, when he should 
be far away. 

After performing this last sorrowful duty, he 
set forth alone, and took the road towards the 
famous oracle of Delphi, as Telephassa had ad¬ 
vised him. On his way thither, he still inquired 
of most people whom he met whether they had 
seen Europa; for, to say the truth, Cadmus had 
grown so accustomed to ask the question, that it 
came to his lips as readily as a remark about the 
weather. He received various answers. Some 
told him one thing, and some another. Among 
the rest, a mariner affirmed, that, many years be¬ 
fore, in a distant country, he had heard a rumor 
about a white bull, which came swimming across 
the sea with a child on his back, dressed up in 
flowers that were blighted by the sea-water. He 
did not know what had become of the child or 
the bull; and Cadmus suspected, indeed, by a 
queer twinkle in the mariner’s eyes, that he was 
putting a joke upon him, and had never really 
heard anything about the matter. 

343 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


Poor Cadmus found it more wearisome to 
travel alone than to bear all his dear mother’s 
weight while she had kept him company. His 
heart, you will understand, was now so heavy 
that it seemed impossible, sometimes, to carry 
it any farther. But his limbs were strong and 
active, and well accustomed to exercise. He 
walked swiftly along, thinking of King Agenor 
and Queen Telephassa, and his brothers, and 
the friendly Thasus, all of whom he had left 
behind him, at one point of his pilgrimage or 
another, and never expected to see them any 
more. Full of these remembrances, he came 
within sight of a lofty mountain, which the peo¬ 
ple thereabouts told him was called Parnassus. 
On the slope of Mount Parnassus was the fa¬ 
mous Delphi, whither Cadmus was going. 

This Delphi was supposed to be the very 
midmost spot of the whole world. The place of 
the oracle was a certain cavity in the mountain¬ 
side, over which, when Cadmusscame thither, he 
found a rude bower of branches. It reminded 
him of those which he had helped to build for 
Phoenix and Cilix, and afterwards for Thasus. 
In later times, when multitudes of people came 
from great distances to put questions to the ora¬ 
cle, a spacious temple of marble was erected 
over the spot. But in the days of Cadmus, as I 
have told you, there was only this rustic bower, 
with its abundance of green foliage, and a tuft 
344 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


of shrubbery, that ran wild over the mysterious 
hole in the hillside. 

When Cadmus had thrust a passage through 
the tangled boughs, and made his way into the 
bower, he did not at first discern the half-hid¬ 
den cavity. But soon he felt a cold stream of 
air rushing out of it, with so much force that it 
shook the ringlets on his cheek. Pulling away 
the shrubbery which clustered over the hole, he 
bent forward, and spoke in a distinct but rever¬ 
ential tone, as if addressing some unseen per¬ 
sonage inside of the mountain. 

“ Sacred oracle of Delphi,” said he, <c whither 
shall I go next in quest of my dear sister Eu- 
ropa ? ” 

There was at first a deep silence, and then a 
rushing sound, or a noise like a long sigh, pro¬ 
ceeding out of the interior of the earth. This 
cavity, you must know, was looked upon as 
a sort of fountain of truth, which sometimes 
gushed out in audible words; although, for the 
most part, these words were such a riddle that 
they might just as well have stayed at the bot¬ 
tom of the hole. But Cadmus was more fortu¬ 
nate than many others who went to Delphi in 
search of truth. By and by, the rushing noise 
began to sound like articulate language. It re¬ 
peated, over and over again, the following sen¬ 
tence, which, after all, was so like the vague 
whistle of a blast of air, that Cadmus really did 
345 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 

not quite know whether it meant anything or 
not: — 

“ Seek her no more! Seek her no more ! 
Seek her no more ! ” 

“ What, then, shall I do ? ” asked Cad¬ 
mus. 

For, ever since he was a child, you know, it 
had been the great object of his life to find his 
sister. From the very hour that he left follow¬ 
ing the butterfly in the meadow, near his father’s 
palace, he had done his best to follow Europa, 
over land and sea. And now, if he must give 
up the search, he seemed to have no more busi¬ 
ness in the world. 

But again the sighing gust of air grew into 
something like a hoarse voice. 

“ Follow the cow!” it said. “ Follow the 
cow ! Follow the cow ! ” 

And when these words had been repeated 
until Cadmus was tired of hearing them (espe¬ 
cially as he could not imagine what cow it was, 
or why he was to follow her), the gusty hole 
gave vent to another sentence. 

“Where the stray cow lies down, there is 
your home.” 

These words were pronounced but a single 
time, and died away into a whisper before Cad¬ 
mus was fully satisfied that he had caught the 
meaning. He put other questions, but received 
no answer; only the gust of wind sighed con- 
34b 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


tinually out of the cavity, and blew the withered 
leaves rustling along the ground before it. 

<c Did there really come any words out of 
the hole ? ” thought Cadmus; “ or have I been 
dreaming all this while ? ” 

He turned away from the oracle, and thought 
himself no wiser than when he came thither. 
Caring little what might happen to him, he 
took the first path that offered itself, and went 
along at a sluggish pace; for, having no object 
in view, nor any reason to go one way more 
than another, it would certainly have been fool¬ 
ish to make haste. Whenever he met anybody, 
the old question was at his tongue's end: — 

“ Have you seen a beautiful maiden, dressed 
like a king's daughter, and mounted on a 
snow-white bull, that gallops as swiftly as the 
wind ?" 

But, remembering what the oracle had said, 
he only half uttered the words, and then mum¬ 
bled the rest indistinctly; and from his confu¬ 
sion, people must have imagined that this hand¬ 
some young man had lost his wits. 

I know not how far Cadmus had gone, nor 
could he himself have told you, when, at no 
great distance before him, he beheld a brindled 
cow.. She was lying down by the wayside, and 
quietly chewing her cud; nor did she take any 
notice of the young man until he had ap¬ 
proached pretty nigh. Then, getting leisurely 
347 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


upon her feet, and giving her head a gentle toss, 
she began to move along at a moderate pace, 
often pausing just long enough to crop a mouth¬ 
ful of grass. Cadmus loitered behind, whis¬ 
tling idly to himself, and scarcely noticing the 
cow; until the thought occurred to him, whether 
this could possibly be the animal which, accord¬ 
ing to the oracle's response, was to serve him 
for a guide. But he smiled at himself for fancy¬ 
ing such a thing. He could not seriously think 
that this was the cow, because she went along so 
quietly, behaving just like any other cow. Evi¬ 
dently she neither knew nor cared so much as 
a wisp of hay about Cadmus, and was only 
thinking how to get her living along the way- 
side, where the herbage was green and fresh. 
Perhaps she was going home to be milked. 

“ Cow, cow, cow ! ” cried Cadmus. “ Hey, 
Brindle, hey ! Stop, my good cow." 

He wanted to come up with the cow, so as 
to examine her, and see if she would appear to 
know him, or whether there were any peculiari¬ 
ties to distinguish her from a thousand other 
cows, whose only business is to fill the milk- 
pail, and sometimes kick it over. But still the 
brindled cow trudged on, whisking her tail to 
keep the flies away, and taking as little notice 
of Cadmus as she well could. If he walked 
slowly, so did the cow, and seized the opportu¬ 
nity to graze. If he quickened his pace, the 
348 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


cow went just so much the faster; and once, 
when Cadmus tried to catch her by running, 
she threw out her heels, stuck her tail straight 
on end, and set off at a gallop, looking as 
queerly as cows generally do, while putting 
themselves to their speed. 

When Cadmus saw that it was impossible to 
come up with her, he walked on moderately, as 
before. The cow, too, went leisurely on, with¬ 
out looking behind. Wherever the grass was 
greenest, there she nibbled a mouthful or two. 
Where a brook glistened brightly across the 
path, there the cow drank, and breathed a com¬ 
fortable sigh, and drank again, and trudged on¬ 
ward at the pace that best suited herself and 
Cadmus. 

“ I do believe,” thought Cadmus, “ that this 
may be the cow that was foretold me. If it be 
the one, I suppose she will lie down somewhere 
hereabouts.” 

Whether it were the oracular cow or some 
other one, it did not seem reasonable that she 
should travel a great way farther. So, when¬ 
ever they reached a particularly pleasant spot 
on a breezy hillside, or in a sheltered vale, or 
flowery meadow, on the shore of a calm lake, 
or along the bank of a clear stream, Cadmus 
looked eagerly around to see if the situation 
would suit him for a home. But still, whether 
he liked the place or no, the brindled cow 
349 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


never offered to lie down. On she went at the 
quiet pace of a cow going homeward to the 
barnyard; and, every moment, Cadmus ex¬ 
pected to see a milkmaid approaching with a 
pail, or a herdsman running to head the stray 
animal, and turn her back towards the pasture. 
But no milkmaid came; no herdsman drove 
her back ; and Cadmus followed the stray Brin- 
dle till he was almost ready to drop down with 
fatigue. 

“ O brindled cow,” cried he in a tone of de¬ 
spair, “do you never mean to stop ? ” 

He had now grown too intent on following 
her to think of lagging behind, however long 
the way, and whatever might be his fatigue. 
Indeed, it seemed as if there were something 
about the animal that bewitched people. Sev¬ 
eral persons who happened to see the brindled 
cow, and Cadmus following behind, began to 
trudge after her, precisely as he did. Cadmus 
was glad of somebody to converse with, and 
therefore talked very freely to these good peo¬ 
ple. He told them all his adventures, and how 
he had left King Agenor in his palace, and Phoe¬ 
nix at one place, and Cilix at another, and 
Thasus at a third, and his dear mother, Queen 
Telephassa, under a flowery sod; so that now 
he was quite alone, both friendless and home¬ 
less. He mentioned, likewise, that the oracle 
had bidden him be guided by a cow, and in- 
350 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


quired of the strangers whether they supposed 
that this brindled animal could be the one. 

“Why, ’t is a very wonderful affair,” an¬ 
swered one of his new companions. “ I am 
pretty well acquainted with the ways of cattle, 
and I never knew a cow, of her own accord, to 
go so far without stopping. If my legs will let 
me, I ’ll never leave following the beast till she 
lies down.” 

“ Nor I ! ” said a second. 

“Nor I!” cried a third. “If she goes a 
hundred miles farther, I’m determined to see 
the end of it.” 

The secret of it was, you must know, that 
the cow was an enchanted cow, and that, with¬ 
out their being conscious of it, she threw some 
of her enchantment over everybody that took 
so much as half a dozen steps behind her. 
They could not possibly help following her, 
though, all the tirrle, they fancied themselves 
doing it of their own accord. The cow was by 
no means very nice in choosing her path; so 
that sometimes they had to scramble over rocks, 
or wade through mud and mire, and were all 
in a terribly bedraggled condition, and tired to 
death, and very hungry, into the bargain. What 
a weary business it was ! 

But still they kept trudging stoutly forward, 
and talking as they went. The strangers grew 
very fond of Cadmus, and resolved never to 
35i 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


leave him, but to help him build a city when¬ 
ever the cow might lie down. In the centre 
of it there should be a noble palace, in which 
Cadmus might dwell, and be their king, with a 
throne, a crown and sceptre, a purple robe, and 
everything else that a king ought to have; for 
in him there was the royal blood, and the royal 
heart, and the head that knew how to rule. 

While they were talking of these schemes, 
and beguiling the tediousness of the way with 
laying out the plan of the new city, one of the 
company happened to look at the cow. 

“ Joy! joy!” cried he, clapping his hands. 
“ Brindle is going to lie down.” 

They all looked ; and, sure enough, the cow 
had stopped, and was staring leisurely about 
her, as other cows do when on the point of 
lying down. And slowly, slowly did she re¬ 
cline herself on the soft grass, first bending her 
fore legs, and then crouching her hind ones. 
When Cadmus and his companions came up 
with her, there was the brindled cow taking her 
ease, chewing her cud, and looking them quietly 
in the face ; as if this was just the spot she had 
been seeking for, and as if it were all a matter 
of course. 

“ This, then,” said Cadmus, gazing around 
him, “ this is to be my home.” 

It was a fertile and lovely plain, with great 
trees flinging their sun-speckled shadows over 
352 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


it, and hills fencing it in from the rough weather. 
At no great distance, they beheld a river gleam¬ 
ing in the sunshine. A home feeling stole into 
the heart of poor Cadmus. He was very glad 
to know that here he might awake in the morn¬ 
ing, without the necessity of putting on his dusty 
sandals to travel farther and farther. The days 
and the years would pass over him, and find 
him still in this pleasant spot. If he could 
have had his brothers with him, and his friend 
Thasus, and could have seen his dear mother 
under a roof of his own, he might here have 
been happy, after all their disappointments. 
Some day or other, too, his sister Europa might 
have come quietly to the door of his home, and 
smiled round upon the familiar faces. But, 
indeed, since there was no hope of regaining the 
friends of his boyhood, or ever seeing his dear 
sis'ter again, Cadmus resolved to make himself 
happy with these new companions, who had 
grown so fond of him while following the cow. 

“ Yes, my friends,” said he to them, “ this is 
to be our home. Here we will build our habi¬ 
tations. The brindled cow, which has led us 
hither, will supply us with milk. We will culti¬ 
vate the neighboring soil, and lead an innocent 
and happy life.” 

His companions joyfully assented to this 
plan ; and, in the first place, being very hungry 
and thirsty, they looked about them for the 
353 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


means of providing a comfortable meal. Not 
far off, they saw a tuft of trees, which appeared 
as if there might be a spring of water beneath 
them. They went thither to fetch some, leav¬ 
ing Cadmus stretched on the ground along with 
the brindled cow ; for, now that he had found a 
place of rest, it seemed as if all the weariness of 
his pilgrimage, ever since he left King Agenor’s 
palace, had fallen upon him at once. But his 
new friends had not long been gone, when he 
was suddenly startled by cries, shouts, and 
screams, and the noise of a terrible struggle, 
and in the midst of it all, a most awful hissing, 
which went right through his ears like a rough 
saw. 

Running towards the tuft of trees, he beheld 
the head and fiery eyes of an immense serpent 
or dragon, with the widest jaws that ever a 
dragon had, and a vast many rows of horribly 
sharp teeth. Before Cadmus could reach the 
spot, this pitiless reptile had killed his poor 
companions, and was busily devouring them, 
making but a mouthful of each man. 

It appears that the fountain of water was en¬ 
chanted, and that the dragon had been set to 
guard it, so that no mortal might ever quench 
his thirst there. As the neighboring inhabit¬ 
ants carefully avoided the spot, it was now a 
long time (not less than a hundred years, or 
thereabouts) since the monster had broken his 
354 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


fast; and, as was natural enough, his appetite 
had grown to be enormous, and was not half 
satisfied by the poor people whom he had just 
eaten up. When he caught sight of Cadmus, 
therefore, he set up another abominable hiss, 
and flung back his immense jaws, until his 
mouth looked like a great red cavern, at the 
farther end of which were seen the legs of his 
last victim, whom he had hardly had time to 
swallow. 

But Cadmus was so enraged at the destruc¬ 
tion of his friends, that he cared neither for the 
size of the dragon's jaws nor for his hundreds 
of sharp teeth. Drawing his sword, he rushed 
at the monster, and flung himself right into his 
cavernous mouth. This bold method of at¬ 
tacking him took the dragon by surprise ; for, 
in fact, Cadmus had leaped so far down into his 
throat, that the rows of terrible teeth could not 
close upon him, nor dp him the least harm in 
the world. Thus, though the struggle was a 
tremendous one, and though the dragon shat¬ 
tered the tuft of trees into small splinters by 
the lashing of his tail, yet, as Cadmus was all 
the while slashing and stabbing at his very vitals, 
it was not long before the scaly wretch be¬ 
thought himself of slipping away. He had not 
gone his length, however, when the brave Cad¬ 
mus gave him a sword-thrust that finished the 
battle ; and, creeping out of the gateway of the 
355 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


creature's jaws, there he beheld him still wrig¬ 
gling his vast bulk, although there was no longer 
life enough in him to harm a little child. 

But do not you suppose that it made Cadmus 
sorrowful to think of the melancholy fate which 
had befallen those poor, friendly people, who 
had followed the cow along with him ? It seemed 
as if he were doomed to lose everybody whom 
he loved, or to see them perish in one way or 
another. And here he was, after all his toils 
and troubles, in a solitary place, with not a sin¬ 
gle human being to help him build a hut. 

c< What shall I do ? ” cried he aloud. <c It 
were better for me to have been devoured by 
the dragon, as my poor companions were.” 

“Cadmus,” said a voice,—but whether it 
came from above or below him, or whether it 
spoke within his own breast, the young man 
could not tell, — “ Cadmus, pluck out the dra¬ 
gon’s teeth, and plant them in the earth.” 

This was a strange thing to do ; nor was it 
very easy, I should imagine, to dig out all those 
deep-rooted fangs from the dead dragon’s jaws. 
But Cadmus toiled and tugged, and after pound¬ 
ing the monstrous head almost to pieces with 
a great stone, he at last collected as many teeth 
as might have filled a bushel or two. The next 
thing was to plant them. This, likewise, was 
a tedious piece of work, especially as Cadmus 
was already exhausted with killing the dragon 
356 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


and knocking his head to pieces, and had no¬ 
thing to dig the earth with, that I know of, 
unless it were his sword-blade. Finally, how¬ 
ever, a sufficiently large tract of ground was 
turned up, and sown with this new kind of seed ; 
although half of the dragon’s teeth still re¬ 
mained to be planted some other day. 

Cadmus, quite out of breath, stood leaning 
upon his sword, and wondering what was to 
happen next. He had waited but a few mo¬ 
ments, when he began to see a sight, which was 
as great a marvel as the most marvellous thing 
I ever told you about. 

The sun was shining slantwise over the field, 
and showed all the moist, dark soil just like any 
other newly planted piece of ground. All at 
once, Cadmus fancied he saw something glisten 
very brightly, first at one spot, then at another, 
and then at a hundred and a thousand spots to¬ 
gether. Soon he perceived them to be the steel 
heads of spears, sprouting up everywhere like 
so many stalks of grain, and continually grow¬ 
ing taller and taller. Next appeared a vast 
number of bright sword-blades, thrusting them¬ 
selves up in the same way. A moment after¬ 
wards, the whole surface of the ground was 
broken up by a multitude of polished brass hel¬ 
mets, coming up like a crop of enormous beans. 
So rapidly did they grow, that Cadmus now dis¬ 
cerned the fierce countenance of a man beneath 
357 


TANGLE WOOD TALES 

every one. In short, before he had time to 
think what a wonderful affair it was, he beheld 
an abundant harvest of what looked like human 
beings, armed with helmets and breastplates, 
shields, swords, and spears ; and before they 
were well out of the earth, they brandished their 
weapons, and clashed them one against another, 
seeming to think, little while as they had yet 
lived, that they had wasted too much of life 
without a battle. Every tooth of the dragon 
had produced one of these sons of deadly mis¬ 
chief. 

Up sprouted, also, a great many trumpeters ; 
and with the first breath that they drew, they 
put their brazen trumpets to their * lips, and 
sounded a tremendous and ear-shattering blast; 
so that the whole space, just now so quiet and 
solitary, reverberated with the clash and clang 
of arms, the bray of warlike music, and the 
shouts of angry men. So enraged did they all 
look, that Cadmus fully expected them to put 
the whole world to the sword. How fortunate 
would it be for a great conqueror, if he could 
get a bushel of the dragon's teeth to sow ! 

“ Cadmus," said the same voice which he had 
before heard, “ throw a stone into the midst of 
the armed men." 

So Cadmus seized a large stone, and, flinging 
it into the middle of the earth army, saw it strike 
the breastplate of a gigantic and fierce-looking 
358 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


warrior. Immediately on feeling the blow, he 
seemed to take it for granted that somebody 
had struck him ; and, uplifting his weapon, he 
smote his next neighbor a blow that cleft his hel¬ 
met asunder, and stretched him on the ground. 
In an instant, those nearest the fallen warrior 
began to strike at one another with their swords 
and stab with their spears. The confusion 
spread wider and wider. Each man smote down 
his brother, and was himself smitten down be¬ 
fore he had time to exult in his victory. The 
trumpeters, all the while, blew their blasts shriller 
and shriller ; each soldier shouted a battle-cry 
and often fell with it on his lips. It was the 
strangest spectacle of causeless wrath, and of 
mischief for no good end, that had ever been 
witnessed ; but, after all, it was neither more 
foolish nor more wicked than a thousand battles 
that have since been fought, in which men have 
slain their brothers with just as little reason as 
these children of the dragon’s teeth. It ought 
to be considered, too, that the dragon people 
were made for nothing else; whereas other mor¬ 
tals were born to love and help one another. 

Well, this memorable battle continued to rage 
until the ground was strewn with helmeted heads 
that had been cut off. Of all the thousands 
that began the fight, there were only five left 
standing. These now rushed from different 
parts of the field, and, meeting in the middle 
359 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


of it, clashed their swords, and struck at each 
other’s hearts as fiercely as ever. 

“ Cadmus,” said the voice again, “ bid those 
five warriors sheathe their swords. They will 
help you to build the city.” 

Without hesitating an instant, Cadmus 
stepped forward, with the aspect of a king and a 
leader, and extending his drawn sword amongst 
them, spoke to the warriors in a stern and com¬ 
manding voice. 

“ Sheathe your weapons ! ” said he. 

And forthwith, feeling themselves bound to 
obey him, the five remaining sons of the drag¬ 
on’s teeth made him a military salute with their 
swords, returned them to the scabbards, and 
stood before Cadmus in a rank, eyeing him as 
soldiers eye their captain, while awaiting the 
word of command. 

These five men had probably sprung from 
the biggest of the dragon’s teeth, and were the 
boldest and strongest of the whole army. They 
were almost giants, indeed, and had good need 
to be so, else they never could have lived 
through so terrible a fight. They still had a 
very furious look, and, if Cadmus happened to 
glance aside, would glare at one another, with 
fire flashing out of their eyes. It was strange, 
too, to observe how the earth, out of which they 
had so lately grown, was incrusted, here and 
there, on their bright breastplates, and even be- 
360 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


grimed their faces, just as you may have seen it 
clinging to beets and carrots when pulled out of 
their native soil. Cadmus hardly knew whether 
to consider them as men, or some odd kind of 
vegetable ; although, on the whole, he concluded 
that there was human nature in them, because 
they were so fond of trumpets and weapons, 
and so ready to shed blood. 

They looked him earnestly in the face, wait¬ 
ing for his next order, and evidently desiring 
no other employment than to follow him from 
one battlefield to another, all over the wide 
world. But Cadmus was wiser than these earth- 
born creatures, with the dragon’s fierceness in 
them, and knew better how to use their strength 
and hardihood. 

“ Come! ” said he. “ You are sturdy fellows. 
Make yourselves useful! Quarry some stones 
with those great swords of yours, and help me 
to build a city.” 

The five soldiers grumbled a little, and mut¬ 
tered that it was their business to overthrow 
cities, not to build them up. But Cadmus 
looked at them with a stern eye, and spoke to 
them in a tone of authority, so that they knew 
him for their master, and never again thought 
of disobeying his commands. They set to work 
in good earnest, and toiled so diligently, that, 
in a very short time, a city began to make its 
appearance. At first, to be sure, the workmen 
361 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


showed a quarrelsome disposition. Like savage 
beasts, they would doubtless have done one an¬ 
other a mischief, if Cadmus had not kept watch 
over them and quelled the fierce old serpent 
that lurked in their hearts, when he saw it gleam¬ 
ing out of their wild eyes. But, in course of 
time, they got accustomed to honest labor, and 
had sense enough to feel that there was more 
true enjoyment in living at peace, and doing 
good to one's neighbor, than in striking at him 
with a two-edged sword. It may not be too 
much to hope that the rest of mankind will by 
and by grow as wise and peaceable as these five 
earth-begrimed warriors, who sprang from the 
dragon’s teeth. 

And now the city was built, and there was a 
home in it for each of the workmen. But the 
palace of Cadmus was not yet erected, because 
they had left it till the last, meaning to intro¬ 
duce all the new improvements of architecture, 
and make it very commodious, as well as stately 
and beautiful. After finishing the rest of their 
labors, they all went to bed betimes, in order to 
rise in the gray of the morning, and get at least 
the foundation of the edifice laid before night¬ 
fall. But, when Cadmus arose, and took his 
way towards the site where the palace was to be 
built, followed by his five sturdy workmen 
marching all in a row, what do you think he 
saw ? 


362 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 


What should it be but the most magnificent 
palace that had ever been seen in the world ? It 
was built of marble and other beautiful kinds 
of stone, and rose high into the air, with a splen¬ 
did dome and a portico along the front, and 
carved pillars, and everything else that befitted 
the habitation of a mighty king. It had grown 
up out of the earth in almost as short a time as 
it had taken the armed host to spring from the 
dragon’s teeth ; and what made the matter more 
strange, no seed of this stately edifice had ever 
been planted. 

When the five workmen beheld the dome, 
with the morning sunshine making it look 
golden and glorious, they gave a great shout. 

“ Long live King Cadmus,” they cried, “ in 
his beautiful palace.” 

And the new king, with his five faithful fol¬ 
lowers at his heels, shouldering their pickaxes 
and marching in a rank (for they still had a 
soldier-like sort of behavior, as their nature was), 
ascended the palace steps. Halting at the en¬ 
trance, they gazed through a long vista of lofty 
pillars that were ranged from end to end of a 
great hall. At the farther extremity of this hall, 
approaching slowly towards him, Cadmus be¬ 
held a female figure, wonderfully beautiful, and 
adorned with a royal robe, and a crown of dia¬ 
monds over her golden ringlets, and the richest 
necklace that ever a queen wore. His heart 
3 6 3 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


thrilled with delight. He fancied it his long- 
lost sister Europa, now grown to womanhood, 
coming to make him happy, and to repay him, 
with her sweet sisterly affection, for all those 
weary wanderings in quest of her since he left 
King Agenor’s palace, — for the tears that he 
had shed, on parting with Phoenix, and Cilix, 
and Thasus, — for the heart-breakings that had 
made the whole world seem dismal to him over 
his dear mother’s grave. 

But, as Cadmus advanced to meet the beau¬ 
tiful stranger, he saw that her features were un¬ 
known to him, although, in the little time that 
it required to tread along the hall, he had already 
felt a sympathy betwixt himself and her. 

“ No, Cadmus,” said the same voice that had 
spoken to him in the field of the armed men, 
“ this is not that dear sister Europa whom you 
have sought so faithfully all over the wide world. 
This is Harmonia, a daughter of the sky, who 
is given you instead of sister, and brothers, and 
friend, and mother. You will find all those 
dear ones in her alone.” 

So King Cadmus dwelt in the palace, with his 
new friend Harmonia, and found a great deal 
of comfort in his magnificent abode, but would 
doubtless have found as much, if not more, in 
the humblest cottage by the wayside. Before 
many years went by, there was a group of rosy 
little children (but how they came thither has 
3 6 4 


THE DRAGON’S TEETH 

always been a mystery to me) sporting in the 
great hall, and on the marble steps of the palace, 
and running joyfully to meet King Cadmus 
when affairs of state left him at leisure to play 
with them. They called him father, and Queen 
Harmonia mother. The five old soldiers of 
the dragon’s teeth grew very fond of these small 
urchins, and were never weary of showing them 
how to shoulder sticks, flourish wooden swords, 
and march in military order, blowing a penny 
trumpet, or beating an abominable rub-a-dub 
upon a little drum. 

But King Cadmus, lest there should be too 
much of the dragon’s tooth in his children’s dis¬ 
position, used to find time from his kingly duties 
to teach them their A B C, — which he in¬ 
vented for their benefit, and for which many 
little people, I am afraid, are not half so grate¬ 
ful to him as they ought to be. 

3 6 5 


CIRCE'S PALACE 


S OME of you have heard, no doubt, of the 
wise King Ulysses, and how he went to the 
siege of Troy, and how, after that famous 
city was taken and burned, he spent ten long 
years in trying to get back again to his own little 
kingdom of Ithaca. At one time in the course 
of this weary voyage, he arrived at an island that 
looked very green and pleasant, but the name 
of which was unknown to him. For, only a 
little while before he came thither, he had met 
with a terrible hurricane, or rather a great many 
hurricanes at once, which drove his fleet of ves¬ 
sels into a strange part of the sea, where neither 
himself nor any of his mariners had ever sailed. 
This misfortune was entirely owing to the fool¬ 
ish curiosity of his shipmates, who, while Ulysses 
lay asleep, had untied some very bulky leathern 
bags, in which they supposed a valuable trea¬ 
sure to be concealed. But in each of these 
stout bags, King iEolus, the ruler of the winds, 
had tied up a tempest, and had given it to 
Ulysses to keep, in order that he might be sure 
of a favorable passage homeward to Ithaca ; and 
when the strings were loosened, forth rushed the 
whistling blasts, like air out of a blown bladder, 
366 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


whitening the sea with foam, and scattering the 
vessels nobody could tell whither. 

Immediately after escaping from this peril, a 
still greater one had befallen him. Scudding 
before the hurricane, he reached a place, which, 
as he afterwards found, was called Laestrygonia, 
where some monstrous giants had eaten up many 
of his companions, and had sunk every one of 
his vessels, except that in which he himself 
sailed, by flinging great masses of rock at them, 
from the cliffs along the shore. After going 
through such troubles as these, you cannot 
wonder that King Ulysses was glad to moor his 
tempest-beaten bark in a quiet cove of the green 
island, which I began with telling you about. 
But he had encountered so many dangers from 
giants, and one-eyed Cyclops, and monsters of 
the sea and land, that he could not help dread¬ 
ing some mischief, even in this pleasant and 
seemingly solitary spot. For two days, there¬ 
fore, the poor weather-worn voyagers kept quiet, 
and either stayed on board of their vessel, or 
merely crept along under cliffs that bordered the 
shore; and to keep themselves alive, they dug 
shell-fish out of the sand, and sought for any 
little rill of fresh water that might be running 
towards the sea. 

Before the two days were spent, they grew 
very weary of this kind of life ; for the followers 
of King Ulysses, as you will find it important 

367 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


to remember, were terrible gormandizers, and 
pretty sure to grumble if they missed their reg¬ 
ular meals, and their irregular ones besides. 
Their stock of provisions was quite exhausted, 
and even the shell-fish began to get scarce, so 
that they had now to choose between starving 
to death or venturing into the interior of the 
island, where, perhaps, some huge three-headed 
dragon, or other horrible monster, had his den. 
Such misshapen creatures were very numerous 
in those days ; and nobody ever expected to 
make a voyage, or take a journey, without run¬ 
ning more or less risk of being devoured by 
them. 

But King Ulysses was a bold man as well as 
a prudent one; and on the third morning he 
determined to discover what sort of a place the 
island was, and whether it were possible to ob¬ 
tain a supply of food for the hungry mouths of 
his companions. So, taking a spear in his hand, 
he clambered to the summit of a cliff, and gazed 
round about him. At a distance, towards the 
centre of the island, he beheld the stately towers 
of what seemed to be a palace, built of snow- 
white marble, and rising in the midst of a grove 
of lofty trees. The thick branches of these trees 
stretched across the front of the edifice, and 
more than half concealed it, although, from the 
portion which he saw, Ulysses judged it to be 
spacious and exceedingly beautiful, and prob- 
368 


CIRCE'S PALACE 


ably the residence of some great nobleman or 
prince. A blue smoke went curling up from 
the chimney, and was almost the pleasantest 
part of the spectacle to Ulysses. For, from 
the abundance of this smoke, it was reasonable 
to conclude that there was a good fire in the 
kitchen, and that, at dinner-time, a plentiful 
banquet would be served up to the inhabitants 
of the palace, and to whatever guests might 
happen to drop in. 

With so agreeable a prospect before him, 
Ulysses fancied that he could not do better 
than to go straight to the palace gate, and tell 
the master of it that there was a crew of poor 
shipwrecked mariners not far off, who had eaten 
nothing for a day or two save a few clams and 
oysters, and would therefore be thankful for a 
little food. And the prince or nobleman must 
be a very stingy curmudgeon, to be sure, if, at 
least, when his own dinner was over, he would 
not bid them welcome to the broken victuals 
from the table. 

Pleasing himself with this idea, King Ulysses 
had made a few steps in the direction of the 
palace, when there was a great twittering and 
chirping from the branch of a neighboring tree. 
A moment afterwards, a bird came flying towards 
him, and hovered in the air, so as almost to 
brush his face with its wings. It was a very 
pretty little bird, with purple wings and body, 
3 6 9 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


and yellow legs, and a circle of golden feathers 
round its neck, and on its head a golden tuft, 
which looked like a king's crown in miniature. 
Ulysses tried to catch the bird. But it fluttered 
nimbly out of his reach, still chirping in a pite¬ 
ous tone, as if it could have told a lamentable 
story, had it only been gifted with human lan¬ 
guage. And when he attempted to drive it 
away, the bird flew no farther than the bough 
of the next tree, and again came fluttering about 
his head, with its doleful chirp, as soon as he 
showed a purpose of going forward. 

“ Have you anything to tell me, little bird ? ” 
asked Ulysses. 

And he was ready to listen attentively to 
whatever the bird might communicate ; for at 
the siege of Troy, and elsewhere, he had known 
such odd things to happen, that he would not 
have considered it much out of the common 
run had this little feathered creature talked as 
plainly as himself. 

“ Peep ! ” said the bird, cc peep, peep, pe — 
weep ! ” And nothing else would it say, but 
only, “ Peep, peep, pe — weep!" in a melan¬ 
choly cadence, and over and over and over 
again. As often as Ulysses moved forward, 
however, the bird showed the greatest alarm, and 
did its best to drive him back, with the anxious 
flutter of its purple wings. Its unaccountable 
behavior made him conclude, at last, that the 
370 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


bird knew of some danger that awaited him, and 
which must needs be very terrible, beyond all 
question, since it moved even a little fowl to feel 
compassion for a human being. So he resolved, 
for the present, to return to the vessel, and tell 
his companions what he had seen. 

This appeared to satisfy the bird. As soon 
as Ulysses turned back, it ran up the trunk of 
a tree, and began to pick insects out of the bark 
with its long, sharp bill; for it was a kind of 
woodpecker, you must know, and had to get its 
living in the same manner as other birds of that 
species. But every little while, as it pecked at 
the bark of the tree, the purple bird bethought 
itself of some secret sorrow, and repeated its 
plaintive note of “ Peep, peep, pe — weep ! ” 

On his way to the shore, Ulysses had the 
good luck to kill a large stag by thrusting his 
spear into its back. Taking it on his shoulders 
(for he was a remarkably strong man), he lugged 
it along with him, and flung it down before his 
hungry companions. I have already hinted to 
you what gormandizers some of the comrades 
of King Ulysses were. From what is related 
of them, I reckon that their favorite diet was 
pork, and that they had lived upon it until a good 
part of their physical substance was swine’s flesh, 
and their tempers and dispositions were very 
much akin to the hog. A dish of venison, how¬ 
ever, was no unacceptable meal to them, espe- 
37 1 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


dally after feeding so long on oysters and clams. 
So, beholding the dead stag, they felt of its ribs 
in a knowing way, and lost no time in kindling 
a fire of driftwood to cook it. The rest of the 
day was spent in feasting; and if these enor¬ 
mous eaters got up from table at sunset, it was 
only because they could not scrape another mor¬ 
sel off the poor animal’s bones. 

The next morning their appetites were as 
sharp as ever. They looked at Ulysses, as if 
they expected him to clamber up the cliff again, 
and come back with another fat deer upon his 
shoulders. Instead of setting out, however, he 
summoned the whole crew together, and told 
them it was in vain to hope that he could kill a 
stag every day for their dinner, and therefore it 
was advisable to think of some other mode of 
satisfying their hunger. 

“Now,” said he, “when I was on the cliff 
yesterday, I discovered that this island is in¬ 
habited. At a considerable distance from the 
shore stood a marble palace, which appeared to 
be very spacious, and had a great deal of smoke 
curling out of one of its chimneys.” 

“ Aha ! ” muttered some of his companions, 
smacking their lips. “ That smoke must have 
come from the kitchen fire. There was a good 
dinner on the spit; and no doubt there will be 
as good a one to-day.” 

“ But,” continued the wise Ulysses, “ you 
372 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


must remember, my good friends, our misad¬ 
venture in the cavern of one-eyed Polyphemus, 
the Cyclops ! Instead of his ordinary milk diet, 
did he not eat up two of our comrades for his 
supper, and a couple more for breakfast, and 
two at his supper again ? Methinks I see him 
yet, the hideous monster, scanning us with that 
great red eye, in the middle of his forehead, to 
single out the fattest. And then again only a 
few days ago, did we not fall into the hands 
of the king of the Laestrygons, and those other 
horrible giants, his subjects, who devoured a 
great many more of us than are now left ? To 
tell you the truth, if we go to yonder palace, 
there can be no question that we shall make 
our appearance at the dinner-table ; but whether 
seated as guests, or served up as food, is a point 
to be seriously considered.” 

“ Either way,” murmured some of the hun¬ 
griest of the crew, “ it will be better than star¬ 
vation ; particularly if one could be sure of 
being well fattened beforehand, and daintily 
cooked afterwards.” 

“ That is a matter of taste,” said King Ulys¬ 
ses, “ and, for my own part, neither the most 
careful fattening nor the daintiest of cookery 
would reconcile me to being dished at last. My 
proposal is, therefore, that we divide ourselves 
into two equal parties, and ascertain, by draw¬ 
ing lots, which of the two shall go to the palace, 
373 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


and beg for food and assistance. If these can 
be obtained, all is well. If not, and if the in¬ 
habitants prove as inhospitable as Polyphemus, 
or the Laestrygons, then there will but half of 
us perish, and the remainder may set sail and 
escape.” 

As nobody objected to this scheme, Ulysses 
proceeded to count the whole band, and found 
that there were forty-six men including himself. 
He then numbered off twenty-two of them, 
and put Eurylochus (who was one of his chief 
officers, and second only to himself in sagacity) 
at their head. Ulysses took command of the 
remaining twenty-two men, in person. Then, 
taking off his helmet, he put two shells into it, 
on one of which was written “ Go,” and on the 
other, “ Stay.” Another person now held the 
helmet, while Ulysses and Eurylochus drew out 
each a shell; and the word cc Go ” was found 
written on that which Eurylochus had drawn. 
In this manner, it was decided that Ulysses and 
his twenty-two men were to remain at the sea¬ 
side until the other party should have found out 
what sort of treatment they might expect at the 
mysterious palace. As there was no help for it, 
Eurylochus immediately set forth at the head of 
his twenty-two followers, who went off in a very 
melancholy state of mind, leaving their friends 
in hardly better spirits than themselves. 

No sooner had they clambered up the cliff, 
374 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


than they discerned the tall marble towers of 
the palace, ascending, as white as snow, out 
of the lovely green shadow of the trees which 
surrounded it. A gush of smoke came from a 
chimney in the rear of the edifice. This vapor 
rose high in the air, and, meeting with a breeze, 
was wafted seaward, and made to pass over the 
heads of the hungry mariners. When people’s 
appetites are keen, they have a very quick scent 
for anything savory in the wind. 

“ That smoke comes from the kitchen! ” 
cried one of them, turning up his nose as high 
as he could, and snuffing eagerly. “ And, as 
sure as I m a half-starved vagabond, I smell 
roast meat in it.” 

“ Pig, roast pig ! ” said another. “ Ah, the 
dainty little porker! My mouth waters for 
him.” 

“ Let us make haste,” cried the others, ct or 
we shall be too late for the good cheer! ” 

But scarcely had they made half a dozen steps 
from the edge of the cliff, when a bird came 
fluttering to meet them. It was the same pretty 
little bird, with the purple wings and body, the 
yellow legs, the golden collar round its neck, 
and the crown-like tuft upon its head, whose 
behavior had so much surprised Ulysses. It 
hovered about Eurylochus, and almost brushed 
his face with its wings. 

“ Peep, peep, pe — weep ! ” chirped the bird. 

375 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


So plaintively intelligent was the sound, that 
it seemed as if the little creature were going to 
break its heart with some mighty secret that it 
had to tell, and only this one poor note to tell 
it with. 

“ My pretty bird,” said Eurylochus, — for 
he was a wary person, and let no token of harm 
escape his notice, — “ my pretty bird, who sent 
you hither ? And what is the message which 
you bring ? ” 

“ Peep, peep, pe — weep ! ” replied the bird 
very sorrowfully. 

Then it flew towards the edge of the cliff, 
and looked round at them, as if exceedingly 
anxious that they should return whence they 
came. Eurylochus and a few of the others 
were inclined to turn back. They could not 
help suspecting that the purple bird must be 
aware of something mischievous that would be¬ 
fall them at the palace, and the knowledge of 
which affected its airy spirit with a human sym¬ 
pathy and sorrow. But the rest of the voyagers, 
snuffing up the smoke from the palace kitchen, 
ridiculed the idea of returning to the vessel. 
One of them (more brutal than his fellows, and 
the most notorious gormandizer in the whole 
crew) said such a cruel and wicked thing, that 
I wonder the mere thought did not turn him 
into a wild beast in shape, as he already was in 
his nature. 


376 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


“ This troublesome and impertinent little 
fowl/’ said he, “ would make a delicate titbit to 
begin dinner with. Just one plump morsel, 
melting away between the teeth. If he comes 
within my reach, I ’ll catch him, and give him 
to the palace cook to be roasted on a skewer.” 

The words were hardly out of his mouth, 
before the purple bird flew away, crying “ Peep, 
peep, pe — weep,” more dolorously than ever. 

“ That bird,” remarked Eurylochus, “ knows 
more than we do about what awaits us at the 
palace.” 

“ Come on, then,” cried his comrades, “ and 
we ’ll soon know as much as he does.” 

The party, accordingly, went onward through 
the green and pleasant wood. Every little while 
they caught new glimpses of the marble palace, 
which looked more and more beautiful the nearer 
they approached it. They soon entered a broad 
pathway, which seemed to be very neatly kept, 
and which went winding along with streaks of 
sunshine falling across it, and specks of light 
quivering among the deepest shadows that fell 
from the lofty trees. It was bordered, too, with 
a great many sweet-smelling flowers, such as the 
mariners had never seen before. So rich and 
beautiful they were, that, if the shrubs grew wild 
here, and were native in the soil, then this island 
was surely the flower garden of the whole earth ; 
or, if transplanted from some other clime, it 
377 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


must have been from the Happy Islands that 
lay towards the golden sunset. 

“ There has been a great deal of pains fool¬ 
ishly wasted on these flowers,” observed one of 
the company; and I tell you what he said, that 
you may keep in mind what gormandizers they 
were. “ For my part, if I were the owner of 
the palace, I would bid my gardener cultivate 
nothing but savory potherbs to make a stuffing 
for roast meat, or to flavor a stew with.” 

“Well said!” cried the others. “But I 'll 
warrant you there ’s a kitchen garden in the rear 
of the palace.” 

At one place they came to a crystal spring, 
and paused to drink at it for want of liquor which 
they liked better. Looking into its bosom, they 
beheld their own faces dimly reflected, but so 
extravagantly distorted by the gush and motion 
of the water, that each one of them appeared to 
be laughing at himself and all his companions. 
So ridiculous were these images of themselves, 
indeed, that they did really laugh aloud, and 
could hardly be grave again as soon as they 
wished. And after they had drank, they grew 
still merrier than before. 

“ It has a twang of the wine-cask in it,” said 
one, smacking his lips. 

“ Make haste ! ” cried his fellows ; “ we 'll 
find the wine-cask itself at the palace ; and that 
will be better than a hundred crystal fountains.” 

378 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


Then they quickened their pace, and capered 
for joy at the thought of the savory banquet at 
which they hoped to be guests. But Eurylochus 
told them that he felt as if he were walking in a 
dream. 

“ If I am really awake,” continued he, “ then, 
in my opinion, we are on the point of meeting 
with some stranger adventure than any that be¬ 
fell us in the cave of Polyphemus, or among the 
gigantic man-eating Laestrygons, or in the windy 
palace of King iEolus, which stands on a brazen- 
walled island. This kind of dreamy feeling al¬ 
ways comes over me before any wonderful occur¬ 
rence. If you take my advice, you will turn 
back.” 

“No, no,” answered his comrades, snuff¬ 
ing the air, in which the scent from the palace 
kitchen was now very perceptible. “ We would 
not turn back, though we were certain that the 
king of the Laestrygons, as big as a mountain, 
would sit at the head of the table, and huge 
Polyphemus, the one-eyed Cyclops, at its foot.” 

At length they came within full sight of the 
palace, which proved to be very large and lofty, 
with a great number of airy pinnacles upon its 
roof. Though it was now midday, and the sun 
shone brightly over the marble front, yet its 
snowy whiteness, and its fantastic style of archi¬ 
tecture, made it look unreal, like the frostwork 
on a window-pane, or like the shapes of castles 
379 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


which one sees among the clouds by moonlight. 
But, just then, a puff of wind brought down the 
smoke of the kitchen chimney among them, and 
caused each man to smell the odor of the dish 
that he liked best; and, after scenting it, they 
thought everything else moonshine, and nothing 
real save this palace, and save the banquet that 
was evidently ready to be served up in it. 

So they hastened their steps towards the 
portal, but had not got halfway across the wide 
lawn, when a pack of lions, tigers, and wolves 
came bounding to meet them. The terrified 
mariners started back, expecting no better fate 
than to be torn to pieces and devoured. To 
their surprise and joy, however, these wild beasts 
merely capered around them, wagging their tails, 
offering their heads to be stroked and patted, 
and behaving just like so many well-bred house¬ 
dogs, when they wish to express their delight at 
meeting their master, or their master’s friends. 
The biggest lion licked the feet of Eurylochus ; 
and every other lion, and every wolf and tiger, 
singled out one of his two and twenty followers, 
whom the beast fondled as if he loved him bet¬ 
ter than a beef bone. 

But, for all that, Eurylochus imagined that 
he saw something fierce and savage in their eyes ; 
nor would he have been surprised, at any mo¬ 
ment, to feel the big lion’s terrible claws, or to 
see each of the tigers make a deadly spring, or 
380 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


each wolf leap at the throat of the man whom he 
had fondled. Their mildness seemed unreal, 
and a mere freak ; but their savage nature was 
as true as their teeth and claws. 

Nevertheless, the men went safely across the 
lawn with the wild beasts frisking about them, 
and doing no manner of harm ; although, as 
they mounted the steps of the palace, you might 
possibly have heard a low growl, particularly 
from the wolves; as if they thought it a pity, 
after all, to let the strangers pass without so 
much as tasting what they were made of. 

Eurylochus and his followers now passed 
under a lofty portal, and looked through the 
open doorway into the interior of the palace. 
The first thing that they saw was a spacious hall, 
and a fountain in the middle of it, gushing up 
towards the ceiling out of a marble basin, and 
falling back into it with a continual plash. The 
water of this fountain, as it spouted upward, was 
constantly taking new shapes, not very distinctly, 
but plainly enough for a nimble fancy to recog¬ 
nize what they were. Now it was the shape 
of a man in a long robe, the fleecy whiteness of 
which was made out of the fountain's spray ; 
now it was a lion, or a tiger, or a wolf, or an ass, 
or, as often as anything else, a hog, wallowing 
in the marble basin as if it were his sty. It was 
either magic or some very curious machinery 
that caused the gushing waterspout to assume 
38i 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


all these forms. But, before the strangers had 
time to look closely at this wonderful sight, their 
attention was drawn off by a very sweet and 
agreeable sound. A woman’s voice was singing 
melodiously in another room of the palace, and 
with her voice was mingled the noise of a loom, 
at which she was probably seated, weaving a rich 
texture of cloth, and intertwining the high and 
low sweetness of her voice into a rich tissue of 
harmony. 

By and by, the song came to an end; and 
then, all at once, there were several feminine 
voices, talking airily and cheerfully, with now 
and then a merry burst of laughter, such as you 
may always hear when three or four young wo¬ 
men sit at work together. 

“ What a sweet song that was ! ” exclaimed 
one of the voyagers. 

“ Too sweet, indeed,” answered Eurylochus, 
shaking his head. “ Yet it was not so sweet as 
the song of the Sirens, those birdlike damsels 
who wanted to tempt us on the rocks, so that 
our vessel might be wrecked, and our bones 
left whitening along the shore.” 

“ But just listen to the pleasant voices of 
those maidens, and that buzz of the loom, as 
the shuttle passes to and fro,” said another com¬ 
rade. “ What a domestic, household, homelike 
sound it is ! Ah, before that weary siege of Troy, 
I used to hear the buzzing loom and the wo- 
382 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


men's voices under my own roof. Shall I never 
hear them again ? nor taste those nice little sa¬ 
vory dishes which my dearest wife knew how to 
serve up ? ” 

“ Tush! we shall fare better here," said an¬ 
other. “ But how innocently those women are 
babbling together, without guessing that we 
overhear them! And mark that richest voice 
of all, so pleasant and familiar, but which yet 
seems to have the authority of a mistress among 
them. Let us show ourselves at once. What 
harm can the lady of the palace and her maidens 
do to mariners and warriors like us ? " 

“ Remember," said Eurylochus, “ that it was 
a young maiden who beguiled three of our 
friends into the palace of the king of the Laes- 
trygons, who ate up one of them in the twin¬ 
kling of an eye." 

No warning or persuasion, however, had any 
effect on his companions. They went up to a 
pair of folding doors at the farther end of the 
hall, and, throwing them wide open, passed into 
the next room. Eurylochus, meanwhile, had 
stepped behind a pillar. In the short moment 
while the folding doors opened and closed again, 
he caught a glimpse of a very beautiful woman 
rising from the loom, and coming to meet the 
poor weather-beaten wanderers, with a hospita¬ 
ble smile, and her hand stretched out in wel¬ 
come. There were four other young women, 
3 8 3 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


who joined their hands and danced merrily for¬ 
ward, making gestures of obeisance to the stran¬ 
gers. They were only less beautiful than the 
lady who seemed to be their mistress. Yet 
Eurylochus fancied that one of them had sea- 
green hair, and that the close-fitting bodice of 
a second looked like the bark of a tree, and 
that both the others had something odd in their 
aspect, although he could not quite determine 
what it was, in the little while that he had to 
examine them. 

The folding doors swung quickly back, and 
left him standing behind the pillar, in the sol¬ 
itude of the outer hall. There Eurylochus 
waited until he was quite weary, and listened 
eagerly to every sound, but without hearing any¬ 
thing that could help him to guess what had be¬ 
come of his friends. Footsteps, it is true, seemed 
to be passing and repassing in other parts of the 
palace. Then there was a clatter of silver dishes, 
or golden ones, which made him imagine a rich 
feast in a splendid banqueting-hall. But by 
and by he heard a tremendous grunting and 
squealing, and then a sudden scampering, like 
that of small, hard hoofs over a marble floor, 
while the voices of the mistress and her four 
handmaidens were screaming all together, in 
tones of anger and derision. Eurylochus could 
not conceive what had happened, unless a drove 
of swine had broken into the palace, attracted by 
3 8 4 


CIRCE’S PALACE 

the smell of the feast. Chancing to cast his 
eyes at the fountain, he saw that it did not shift 
its shape, as formerly, nor looked either like a 
long-robed man, or a lion, a tiger, a wolf, or an 
ass. It looked like nothing but a hog, which 
lay wallowing in the marble basin, and filled it 
from brim to brim. 

But we must leave the prudent Eurylochus 
waiting in the outer hall, and follow his friends 
into the inner secrecy of the palace. As soon 
as the beautiful woman saw them, she arose 
from the loom, as I have told you, and came 
forward, smiling, and stretching out her hand. 
She took the hand of the foremost among them, 
and bade him and the whole party welcome. 

“You have been long expected, my good 
friends,” said she. “ I and my maidens are well 
acquainted with you, although you do not ap¬ 
pear to recognize us. Look at this piece of 
tapestry, and judge if your faces must not have 
been familiar to us.” 

So the voyagers examined the web of cloth 
which the beautiful woman had been weaving 
in her loom; and, to their vast astonishment, 
they saw their own figures perfectly represented 
in different colored threads. It was a lifelike 
picture of their recent adventures, showing them 
in the cave of Polyphemus, and how they had 
put out his one great moony eye; while in an¬ 
other part of the tapestry they were untying the 
385 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


leathern bags, puffed out with contrary winds; 
and farther on, they beheld themselves scam¬ 
pering away from the gigantic king of the Laes- 
trygons, who had caught one of them by the 
leg. Lastly, there they were, sitting on the 
desolate shore of this very island, hungry and 
downcast, and looking ruefully at the bare bones 
of the stag which they devoured yesterday. 
This was as far as the work had yet proceeded; 
but when the beautiful woman should again sit 
down at her loom, she would probably make a 
picture of what had since happened to the stran¬ 
gers, and of what was now going to happen. 

“ You see,” she said, “ that I know all about 
your troubles ; and you cannot doubt that I 
desire to make you happy for as long a time as 
you may remain with me. For this purpose, 
my honored guests, I have ordered a banquet 
to be prepared. Fish, fowl, and flesh, roasted, 
and in luscious stews, and seasoned, I trust, to 
all your tastes, are ready to be served up. If 
your appetites tell you it is dinner-time, then 
come with me to the festal saloon.” 

At this kind invitation, the hungry mariners 
were quite overjoyed ; and one of them, taking 
upon himself to be spokesman, assured their 
hospitable hostess that any hour of the day was 
dinner-time with them, whenever they could get 
flesh to put in the pot, and fire to boil it with. 
So the beautiful woman led the way ; and the 
386 


CIRCE’S PALACE 

four maidens (one of them had sea-green hair, 
another a bodice of oak bark, a third sprinkled 
a shower of water-drops from her fingers’ ends, 
and the fourth had some other oddity, which I 
have forgotten), all these followed behind, and 
hurried the guests along, until they entered a 
magnificent saloon. It was built in a perfect 
oval, and lighted from a crystal dome above. 
Around the walls were ranged two and twenty 
thrones, overhung by caiiopies of crimson and 
gold, and provided with the softest of cushions, 
which were tasselled and fringed with gold cord. 
Each of the strangers was invited to sit down; 
and there they were, two and twenty storm- 
beaten mariners, in worn and tattered garb, sit¬ 
ting on two and twenty cushioned and canopied 
thrones, so rich and gorgeous that the proudest 
monarch had nothing more splendid in his 
stateliest hall. 

Then you might have seen the guests nod¬ 
ding, winking with one eye, and leaning from one 
throne to another, to communicate their satis¬ 
faction in hoarse whispers. 

“ Our good hostess has made kings of us 
all,” said one. “Ha! do you smell the feast? 
I ’ll engage it will be fit to set before two and 
twenty kings.” 

“ I hope,” said another, “ it will be, mainly, 
good substantial joints, sirloins, spareribs, and 
hinder quarters, without too many kickshaws. 
3 8 7 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


If I thought the good lady would not take it 
amiss, I should call for a fat slice of fried bacon 
to begin with.” 

Ah, the gluttons and gormandizers! You 
see how it was with them. In the loftiest seats 
of dignity, on royal thrones, they could think 
of nothing but their greedy appetite, which was 
the portion of their nature that they shared 
with wolves and swine; so that they resembled 
those vilest of animals far more than they did 
kings, — if, indeed, kings were what they ought 
to be. 

But the beautiful woman now clapped her 
hands; and immediately there entered a train 
of two and twenty serving-men, bringing dishes 
of the richest food, all hot from the kitchen 
fire, and sending up such a steam that it hung 
like a cloud below the crystal dome of the sa¬ 
loon. An equal number of attendants brought 
great flagons of wine, of various kinds, some 
of which sparkled as it was poured out, and 
went bubbling down the throat; while, of other 
sorts, the purple liquor was so clear that you 
could see the wrought figures at the bottom of 
the goblet. While the servants supplied the 
two and twenty guests with food and drink, 
the hostess and her four maidens went from 
one throne to another, exhorting them to eat 
their fill, and to quaff wine abundantly, and 
thus to recompense themselves, at this one 
388 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


banquet, for the many days when they had 
gone without a dinner. But, whenever the 
mariners were not looking at them (which was 
pretty often, as they looked chiefly into the 
basins and platters), the beautiful woman and 
her damsels turned aside and laughed. Even 
the servants, as they knelt down to present the 
dishes, might be seen to grin and sneer, while 
the guests were helping themselves to the 
offered dainties. 

And, once in a while, the strangers seemed 
to taste something that they did not like. 

“ Here is an odd kind of a spice in this dish,” 
said one. “ I can't say it quite suits my palate. 
Down it goes, however.” 

“ Send a good draught of wine down your 
throat,” said his comrade on the next throne. 
“ That is the stuff to make this sort of cookery 
relish well. Though I must needs say, the 
wine has a queer taste too. But the more I 
drink of it the better I like the flavor.” 

Whatever little fault they might find with 
the dishes, they sat at dinner a prodigiously 
long while; and it would really have made you 
ashamed to see how they swilled down the 
liquor and gobbled up the food. They sat on 
golden thrones, to be sure; but they behaved 
like pigs in a sty; and, if they had had their 
wits about them, they might have guessed that 
this was the opinion of their beautiful hostess and 
3 8 9 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


her maidens. It brings a blush into my face 
to reckon up, in my own mind, what moun¬ 
tains of meat and pudding, and what gallons 
of wine, these two and twenty guzzlers and 
gormandizers ate and drank. They forgot all 
about their homes, and their wives and chil¬ 
dren, and all about Ulysses, and everything 
else, except this banquet, at which they wanted 
to keep feasting forever. But at length they 
began to give over, from mere incapacity to 
hold any more. 

“ That last bit of fat is too much for me,” 
said one. 

“ And I have not room for another morsel,” 
said his next neighbor, heaving a sigh. “ What 
a pity! My appetite is as sharp as ever.” 

In short, they all left off eating, and leaned 
back on their thrones, with such a stupid and 
helpless aspect as made them ridiculous to be¬ 
hold. When their hostess saw this, she laughed 
aloud; so did her four damsels; so did the two 
and twenty serving-men that bore the dishes, 
and their two and twenty fellows that poured 
out the wine. And the louder they all laughed, 
the more stupid and helpless did the two and 
twenty gormandizers look. Then the beauti¬ 
ful woman took her stand in the middle of the 
saloon, and, stretching out a slender rod (it had 
been all the while in her hand, although they 
never noticed it till this moment), she turned 
39 ° 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


it from one guest to another, until each had 
felt it pointed at himself. Beautiful as her face 
was, and though there was a smile on it, it looked 
just as wicked and mischievous as the ugliest ser¬ 
pent that ever was seen; and fat-witted as the 
voyagers had made themselves, they began to 
suspect that they had fallen into the power of 
an evil-minded enchantress. 

“ Wretches,” cried she, “you have abused a 
lady’s hospitality; and in this princely saloon 
your behavior has been suited to a hogpen. 
You are already swine in everything but the 
human form, which you disgrace, and which I 
myself should be ashamed to keep a moment 
longer, were you to share it with me. But it 
will require only the slightest exercise of magic 
to make the exterior conform to the hoggish 
disposition. Assume your proper shapes, gor¬ 
mandizers, and begone to the sty ! ” 

Uttering these last words, she waved her 
wand; and stamping her foot imperiously, each 
of the guests was struck aghast at beholding, 
instead of his comrades in human shape, one 
and twenty hogs sitting on the same number 
of golden thrones. Each man (as he still sup¬ 
posed himself to be) essayed to give a cry of 
surprise, but found that he could merely grunt, 
and that, in a word, he was just such another 
beast as his companions. It looked so intoler¬ 
ably absurd to see hogs on cushioned thrones, 
39 1 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


that they made haste to wallow down upon all 
fours, like other swine. They tried to groan 
and beg for mercy, but forthwith emitted the 
most awful grunting and squealing that ever 
came out of swinish throats. They would have 
wrung their hands in despair, but, attempting 
to do so, grew all the more desperate for see¬ 
ing themselves squatted on their hams, and 
pawing the air with their fore trotters. Dear 
me! what pendulous ears they had ! what lit¬ 
tle red eyes, half buried in fat! and what long 
snouts, instead of Grecian noses ! 

But brutes as they certainly were, they yet 
had enough of human nature in them to be 
shocked at their own hideousriess; and, still 
intending to groan, they uttered a viler grunt 
and squeal than before. So harsh and ear¬ 
piercing it was, that you would have fancied a 
butcher was sticking his knife into each of 
their throats, or, at the very least, that some¬ 
body was pulling every hog by his funny little 
twist of a tail. 

“ Begone to your sty! ” cried the enchant¬ 
ress, giving them some smart strokes with her 
wand; and then she turned to the serving- 
men, “ Drive out these swine, and throw down 
some acorns for them to eat.” 

The door of the saloon being flung open, the 
drove of hogs ran in all directions save the right 
one, in accordance with their hoggish perversity, 
392 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


but were finally driven into the back yard of the 
palace. It was a sight to bring tears into one’s 
eyes (and I hope none of you will be cruel 
enough to laugh at it), to see the poor creatures 
go snuffing along, picking up here a cabbage 
leaf and there a turnip-top, and rooting their 
noses in the earth for whatever they could find. 
In their sty, moreover, they behaved more pig¬ 
gishly than the pigs thatvhad been born so ; for 
they bit and snorted at one another, put their 
feet in the trough, and gobbled up their victuals 
in a ridiculous hurry; and, when there was no¬ 
thing more to be had, they made a great pile of 
themselves among some unclean straw, and fell 
fast asleep. If they had any human reason left, 
it was just enough to keep them wondering 
when they should be slaughtered, and what 
quality of bacon they should make. 

Meantime, as I told you before, Eurylochus 
had waited, and waited, and waited, in the en¬ 
trance hall of the palace, without being able to 
comprehend what had befallen his friends. At 
last, when the swinish uproar resounded through 
the palace, and when he saw the image of a hog 
in the marble basin, he thought it best to hasten 
back to the vessel, and inform the wise Ulysses 
of these marvellous occurrences. So he ran as 
fast as he could down the steps, and never 
stopped to draw breath till he reached the shore. 

“ Why do you come alone ? ” asked King 

393 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


Ulysses, as soon as he saw him. “ Where are 
your two and twenty comrades ? ” 

At these questions, Eurylochus burst into 
tears. 

“ Alas ! ” cried he, “ I greatly fear that we 
shall never see one of their faces again.” 

Then he told Ulysses all that had happened, 
as far as he knew it, and added that he suspected 
the beautiful woman to be a vile enchantress, 
and the marble palace, magnificent as it looked, 
to be only a dismal cavern in reality. As for 
his companions, he could not imagine what had 
become of them, unless they had been given to 
the swine to be devoured alive. At this intelli¬ 
gence all the voyagers were greatly affrighted. 
But Ulysses lost no time in girding on his 
sword, and hanging his bow and quiver over his 
shoulders, and taking a spear in his right hand. 
When his followers saw their wise leader making 
these preparations, they inquired whither he was 
going, and earnestly besought him not to leave 
them. 

“ You are our king,” cried they ; “and what 
is more, you are the wisest man in the whole 
world, and nothing but your wisdom and cour¬ 
age can get us out of this danger. If you desert 
us, and go to the enchanted palace, you will suf¬ 
fer the same fate as our poor companions, and 
not a soul of us will ever see our dear Ithaca 
again.” 


394 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


cc As I am your king/’ answered Ulysses, 
“ and wiser than any of you, it is therefore the 
more my duty to see what has befallen our com¬ 
rades, and whether anything can yet be done to 
rescue them. Wait for me here until to-mor¬ 
row. If I do not then return, you must hoist 
sail, and endeavor to find your way to our native 
land. For my part, I am answerable for the fate 
of these poor mariners, who have stood by my 
side in battle, and been so often drenched to the 
skin, along with me, by the same tempestuous 
surges. I will either bring them back with me 
or perish. ,, 

Had his followers dared, they would have 
detained him by force. But King Ulysses 
frowned sternly on them, and shook his spear, 
and bade them stop him at their peril. Seeing 
him so determined, they let him go, and sat 
down on the sand, as disconsolate a set of people 
as could be, waiting and praying for his return. 

It happened to Ulysses, just as before, that, 
when he had gone a few steps from the edge of 
the cliff, the purple bird came fluttering towards 
him, crying, “ Peep, peep, pe—weep ! ” and 
using all the art it could to persuade him to go 
no farther. 

“ What mean you, little bird ? ” cried Ulysses. 
fC You are arrayed like a king in purple and gold, 
and wear a golden crown upon your head. Is 
it because I too am a king, that you desire so 
395 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


earnestly to speak with me? If you can talk 
in human language, say what you would have 
me do.” 

“ Peep! ” answered the purple bird very 
dolorously. “ Peep, peep, pe—we—ep ! ” 

Certainly there lay some heavy anguish at the 
little bird’s heart; and it was a sorrowful pre¬ 
dicament that he could not, at least, have the 
consolation of telling what it was. But Ulysses 
had no time to waste in trying to get at the 
mystery. He therefore quickened his pace, and 
had gone a good way along the pleasant wood- 
path, when there met him a young man of very 
brisk and intelligent aspect, and clad in a rather 
singular garb. He wore a short' cloak, and a 
sort of cap that seemed to be furnished with a 
pair of wings; and from the lightness of his step, 
you would have supposed that there might like¬ 
wise be wings on his feet. To enable him to 
walk still better (for he was always on one jour¬ 
ney or another), he carried a winged staff, around 
which two serpents were wriggling and twist¬ 
ing. In short, I have said enough to make you 
guess that it was Quicksilver; and Ulysses (who 
knew him of old, and had learned a great deal 
of his wisdom from him) recognized him in a 
moment. 

“ Whither are you going in such a hurry, wise 
Ulysses ? ” asked Quicksilver. “ Do you not 
396 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


know that this island is enchanted ? The wicked 
enchantress (whose name is Circe, the sister of 
King iEetes) dwells in the marble palace which 
you see yonder among the trees. By her magic 
arts, she changes every human being into the 
brute, beast, or fowl whom he happens most to 
resemble. ,, 

“ That little bird, which met me at the edge 
of the cliff,” exclaimed Ulysses ; tc was he a hu¬ 
man being once ? ” 

“ Yes,” answered Quicksilver. “He was once 
a king, named Picus, and a pretty good sort of 
a king too, only rather too proud of his purple 
robe, and his crown, and the golden chain about 
his neck ; so he was forced to take the shape of 
a gaudy-feathered bird. The lions, and wolves, 
and tigers, who will come running to meet you, 
in front of the palace, were formerly fierce and 
cruel men, resembling in their dispositions the 
wild beasts whose forms they now rightfully 
wear.” 

“ And my poor companions,” said Ulysses. 
“ Have they undergone a similar change, 
through the arts of this wicked Circe ? ” 

“You well know what gormandizers they 
were,” replied Quicksilver; and, rogue that he 
was, he could not help laughing at the joke. 
“ So you will not be surprised to hear that they 
have all taken the shapes of swine ! If Circe 
397 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


had never done anything worse, I really should 
not think her so very much to blame.” 

“ But can I do nothing to help them ? ” in¬ 
quired Ulysses. 

“It will require all your wisdom,” said 
Quicksilver, “ and a little of my own into the 
bargain, to keep your royal and sagacious self 
from being transformed into a fox. But do as 
I bid you ; and the matter may end better than 
it has begun.” 

While he was speaking, Quicksilver seemed 
to be in search of something; he went stooping 
along the ground, and soon laid his hand on a 
little plant with a snow-white flower, which he 
plucked and smelt of. Ulysses had been look¬ 
ing at that very spot only just before ; and it 
appeared to him that the plant had burst into 
full flower the instant when Quicksilver touched 
it with his fingers. 

“Take this flower, King Ulysses,” said he. 
“ Guard it as you do your eyesight; for I can 
assure you it is exceedingly rare and precious, 
and you might seek the whole earth over with¬ 
out ever finding another like it. Keep it in 
your hand, and smell of it frequently after you 
enter the palace, and while you are talking with 
the enchantress. Especially when she offers you 
food, or a draught of wine out of her goblet, be 
careful to fill your nostrils with the flower's 
fragrance. Follow these directions, and you 
398 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


may defy her magic arts to change you into a 
fox.” 

Quicksilver then gave him some further ad¬ 
vice how to behave, and, bidding him be bold 
and prudent, again assured him that, powerful 
as Circe was, he would have a fair prospect of 
coming safely out of her enchanted palace. Af¬ 
ter listening attentively, Ulysses thanked his 
good friend, and resumed his way. But he had 
taken only a few steps, when, recollecting some 
other questions which he wished to ask, he 
turned round again, and beheld nobody on the 
spot where Quicksilver had stood; for that 
winged cap of his, and those winged shoes, with 
the help of the winged staff, had carried him 
quickly out of sight. 

When Ulysses reached the lawn in front of 
the palace, the lions and other savage animals 
came bounding to meet him, and would have 
fawned upon him and licked his feet. But the 
wise king struck at them with his long spear, 
and sternly bade them begone out of his path ; 
for he knew that they had once been blood¬ 
thirsty men, and would now tear him limb from 
limb, instead of fawning upon him, could they 
do the mischief that was in their hearts. The 
wild beasts yelped and glared at him, and 
stood at a distance while he ascended the palace 
steps. 

On entering the hall, Ulysses saw the magic 
399 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


fountain in the centre of it. The up-gushing 
water had now again taken the shape of a man 
in a long, white, fleecy robe, who appeared to 
be making gestures of welcome. The king like¬ 
wise heard the noise of the shuttle in the loom, 
and the sweet melody of the beautiful woman’s 
song, and then the pleasant voices of herself and 
the four maidens talking together, with peals of 
merry laughter intermixed. But Ulysses did 
not waste much time in listening to the laugh¬ 
ter or the song. He leaned his spear against 
one of the pillars of the hall, and then, after 
loosening his sword in the scabbard, stepped 
boldly forward, and threw the folding doors 
wide open. The moment she beheld his stately 
figure standing in the doorway, the beautiful 
woman rose from the loom, and ran to meet 
him with a glad smile throwing its sunshine 
over her face, and both her hands extended. 

“ Welcome, brave stranger ! ” cried she. 
“ We were expecting you.” 

And the nymph with the sea-green hair made 
a courtesy down to the ground, and likewise 
bade him welcome — so did her sister with 
the bodice of oaken bark, and she that sprin¬ 
kled dewdrops from her fingers’ ends, and the 
fourth one with some oddity which I cannot 
remember. And Circe, as the beautiful enchant¬ 
ress was called (who had deluded so many per¬ 
sons that she did not doubt of being able to 
400 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


delude Ulysses, not imagining how wise he 
was), again addressed him. 

“ Your companions,” said she, cc have already 
been received into my palace, and have enjoyed 
the hospitable treatment to which the propriety 
of their behavior so well entitles them. If such 
be your pleasure, you shall first take some re¬ 
freshment, and then join them in the elegant 
apartment which they now occupy. See, I and 
my maidens have been weaving their figures 
into this piece of tapestry.” 

She pointed to the web of beautifully woven 
cloth in the loom. Circe and the four nymphs 
must have been very diligently at work since 
the arrival of the mariners; for a great many 
yards of tapestry had now been wrought, in 
addition to what I before described. In this 
new part, Ulysses saw his two and twenty friends 
represented as sitting on cushioned and cano¬ 
pied thrones, greedily devouring dainties and 
quaffing deep draughts of wine. The work had 
not yet gone any further. O no, indeed. The 
enchantress was far too cunning to let Ulysses 
see the mischief which her magic arts had since 
brought upon the gormandizers. 

“As for yourself, valiant sir,” said Circe, 
“judging by the dignity of your aspect, I take 
you to be nothing less than a king. Deign to 
follow me, and you shall be treated as befits 
your rank.” 


401 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


So Ulysses followed her into the oval saloon, 
where his two and twenty comrades had de¬ 
voured the banquet, which ended so disas¬ 
trously for themselves. But, all this while, he 
had held the snow-white flower in his hand, 
and had constantly smelt of it while Circe was 
speaking; and as he crossed the threshold of 
the saloon, he took good care to inhale several 
long and deep snuffs of its fragrance. Instead 
of two and twenty thrones, which had before 
been ranged around the wall, there was now 
only a single throne, in the centre of the apart¬ 
ment. But this was surely the most magnifi¬ 
cent seat that ever a king or an emperor re¬ 
posed himself upon, all made of chased gold, 
studded with precious stones, with a cushion 
that looked like a soft heap of living roses, and 
overhung by a canopy of sunlight which Circe 
knew how to weave into drapery. The en¬ 
chantress took Ulysses by the hand, and made 
him sit down upon this dazzling throne. Then, 
clapping her hands, she summoned the chief 
butler. 

“ Bring hither,” said she, c< the goblet that is 
set apart for kings to drink out of. And fill it 
with the same delicious wine which my royal 
brother, King iEetes, praised so highly, when he 
last visited me with my fair daughter Medea. 
That good and amiable child ! Were she now 
402 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


here, it would delight her to see me offering 
this wine to my honored guest.” 

But Ulysses, while the butler was gone for 
the wine, held the snow-white flower to his 
nose. 

“ Is it a wholesome wine ? ” he asked. 

At this the four maidens tittered ; whereupon 
the enchantress looked round at them, with an 
aspect of severity. 

“ It is the wholesomest juice that ever was 
squeezed out of the grape,” said she; “for, in¬ 
stead of disguising a man, as other liquor is apt 
to do, it brings him to his true self, and shows 
him as he ought to be.” 

The chief butler liked nothing better than to 
see people turned into swine, or making any 
kind of a beast of themselves; so he made 
haste to bring the royal goblet, filled with a 
liquid as bright as gold, and which kept spar¬ 
kling upward, and throwing a sunny spray over 
the brim. But, delightfully as the wine looked, 
it was mingled with the most potent enchant¬ 
ments that Circe knew how to concoct. For 
every drop of the pure grape-juice there were 
two drops of the pure mischief; and the danger 
of the thing was, that the mischief made it taste 
all the better. The mere smell of the bubbles, 
which effervesced at the brim, was enough to 
turn a man’s beard into pig’s bristles, or make 
403 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


a lion’s claws grow out of his fingers, or a fox’s 
brush behind him. 

“ Drink, my noble guest,” said Circe, smiling 
as she presented him with the goblet. “You 
will find in this draught a solace for all your 
troubles.” 

King Ulysses took the goblet with his right 
hand, while with his left he held the snow-white 
flower to his nostrils, and drew in so long a 
breath that his lungs were quite filled with its 
pure and simple fragrance. Then, drinking off 
all the wine, he looked the enchantress calmly 
in the face. 

“ Wretch,” cried Circe, giving him a smart 
stroke with her wand, cc how dare you keep your 
human shape a moment longer ? Take the form 
of the brute whom you most resemble. If a 
hog, go join your fellow swine in the sty; if a 
lion, a wolf, a tiger, go howl with the wild beasts 
on the lawn; if a fox, go exercise your craft in 
stealing poultry. Thou hast quaffed off my 
wine, and canst be man no longer.” 

But, such was the virtue of the snow-white 
flower, instead of wallowing down from his 
throne in swinish shape, or taking any other 
brutal form, Ulysses looked even more manly 
and king-like than before. He gave the magic 
goblet a toss, and sent it clashing over the mar¬ 
ble floor, to the farthest end of the saloon. 
Then, drawing his sword, he seized the en- 
404 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


chantress by her beautiful ringlets, and made a 
gesture as if he meant to strike off her head at 
one blow. 

c< Wicked Circe,” cried he in a terrible voice, 
“ this sword shall put an end to thy enchant¬ 
ments. Thou shalt die, vile wretch, and do no 
more mischief in the world, by tempting human 
beings into the vices which make beasts of 
them.” 

The tone and countenance of Ulysses were 
so awful, and his sword gleamed so brightly, 
and seemed to have so intolerably keen an edge, 
that Circe was almost killed by the mere fright, 
without waiting for a blow. The chief butler 
scrambled out of the saloon, picking up the 
golden goblet as he went; and the enchantress 
and the four maidens fell on their knees, wring¬ 
ing their hands, and screaming for mercy. 

“ Spare me ! ” cried Circe, — “ spare me, royal 
and wise Ulysses. For now I know that thou 
art he of whom Quicksilver forewarned me, the 
most prudent of mortals, against whom no en¬ 
chantments can prevail. Thou only couldst 
have conquered Circe. Spare me, wisest of men. 
I will show thee true hospitality, and even give 
myself to be thy slave, and this magnificent 
palace to be henceforth thy home.” 

The four nymphs, meanwhile, were making 
a most piteous ado; and especially the ocean- 
nymph, with the sea-green hair, wept a great 
405 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


deal of salt-water, and the fountain-nymph, be¬ 
sides scattering dewdrops from her fingers* 
ends, nearly melted away into tears. But Ulys¬ 
ses would not be pacified until Circe had taken 
a solemn oath to change back his companions, 
and as many others as he should direct, from 
their present forms of beast or bird into their 
former shapes of men. 

“ On these conditions,** said he, “ I consent 
to spare your life. Otherwise you must die 
upon the spot.** 

With a drawn sword hanging over her, the 
enchantress would readily have consented to do 
as much good as she had hitherto done mis¬ 
chief, however little she might like such em¬ 
ployment. She therefore led Ulysses out of the 
back entrance of the palace, and showed him the 
swine in their sty. There were about fifty of 
these unclean beasts in the whole herd; and 
though the greater part were hogs by birth and 
education, there was wonderfully little difference 
to be seen betwixt them and their new brethren 
who had so recently worn the human shape. 
To speak critically, indeed, the latter rather car¬ 
ried the thing to excess, and seemed to make it 
a point to wallow in the miriest part of the sty, 
and otherwise to outdo the original swine in 
their own natural vocation. When men once 
turn to brutes, the trifle of man’s wit that re¬ 
mains in them adds tenfold to their brutality. 

406 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


The comrades of Ulysses, however, had not 
quite lost the remembrance of having formerly 
stood erect. When he approached the sty, two 
and twenty enormous swine separated them¬ 
selves from the herd, and scampered towards 
him, with such a chorus of horrible squealing 
as made him clap both hands to his ears. And 
yet they did not seem to know what they wanted, 
nor whether they were merely hungry, or miser¬ 
able from some other cause. It was curious, in 
the midst of their distress, to observe them 
thrusting their noses into the mire, in quest of 
something to eat. The nymph with the bodice 
of oaken bark (she was the hamadryad of an 
oak) threw a handful of acorns among them ; 
and the two and twenty hogs scrambled and 
fought for the prize, as if they had tasted not 
so much as a noggin of sour milk for a twelve- 
month. 

“ These must certainly be my comrades,” said 
Ulysses. “ I recognize their dispositions. They 
are hardly worth the trouble of changing them 
into the human form again. Nevertheless, we 
will have it done, lest their bad example should 
corrupt the other hogs. Let them take their 
original shapes, therefore, Dame Circe, if your 
skill is equal to the task. It will require greater 
magic, I trow, than it did to make swine of 
them.” 

So Circe waved her wand again, and repeated 
407 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


a few magic words, at the sound of which the 
two and twenty hogs pricked up their pendu¬ 
lous ears. It was a wonder to behold how their 
snouts grew shorter and shorter, and their 
mouths (which they seemed to be sorry for, be¬ 
cause they could not gobble so expeditiously) 
smaller and smaller, and how one and another 
began to stand upon his hind legs, and scratch 
his nose with his fore trotters. At first the 
spectators hardly knew whether to call them 
hogs or men, but by and by came to the con¬ 
clusion that they rather resembled the latter. 
Finally, there stood the twenty-two comrades 
of Ulysses, looking pretty much the same as 
when they left the vessel. 

You must not imagine, however, that the 
swinish quality had entirely gone out of them. 
When once it fastens itself into a person’s char¬ 
acter, it is very difficult getting rid of it. This 
was proved by the hamadryad, who, being ex¬ 
ceedingly fond of mischief, threw another hand¬ 
ful of acorns before the twenty-two newly re¬ 
stored people ; whereupon down they wallowed, 
in a moment, and gobbled them up in a very 
shameful way. Then, recollecting themselves, 
they scrambled to their feet, and looked more 
than commonly foolish. 

“ Thanks, noble Ulysses ! ” they cried. 
“ From brute beasts you have restored us to the 
condition of men again.” 

408 


CIRCE’S PALACE 


“ Do not put yourselves to the trouble of 
thanking me,” said the wise king. “ I fear I 
have done but little for you.” 

To say the truth, there was a suspicious kind 
of a grunt in their voices, and for a long time 
afterwards they spoke gruffly, and were apt to 
set up a squeal. 

“ It must depend on your own future be¬ 
havior,” added Ulysses, “ whether you do not 
find your way back to the sty.” 

At this moment the note of a bird sounded 
from the branch of a neighboring tree. 

“ Peep, peep, pe—wee—ep ! ” 

It was the purple bird, who, all this while, had 
been sitting over their heads, watching what was 
going forward, and hoping that Ulysses would 
remember how he had done his utmost to keep 
him and his followers out of harm’s way. Ulys¬ 
ses ordered Circe instantly to make a king of 
this good little fowl, and leave him exactly as 
she found him. Hardly were the words spoken, 
and before the bird had time to utter another 
“ Pe—weep,” King Picus leaped down from the 
bough of the tree, as majestic a sovereign as any 
in the world, dressed in a long purple robe and 
gorgeous yellow stockings, with a splendidly 
wrought collar about his neck, and a golden 
crown upon his head. He and King Ulysses 
exchanged with one another the courtesies which 
belong to their elevated rank. But from that 
409 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


time forth King Picus was no longer proud of 
his crown and his trappings of royalty, nor of the 
fact of his being a king; he felt himself merely 
the upper servant of his people, and that it must 
be his lifelong labor to make them better and 
happier. 

As for the lions, tigers, and wolves (though 
Circe would have restored them to their former 
shapes at his slightest word), Ulysses thought 
it advisable that they should remain as they now 
were, and thus give warning of their cruel dis¬ 
positions, instead of going about under the guise 
of men, and pretending to human sympathies, 
while their hearts had the blood-thirstiness of 
wild beasts. So he let them howl as much as 
they liked, but never troubled his head about 
them. And, when everything was settled ac¬ 
cording to his pleasure, he sent to summon the 
remainder of his comrades, whom he had left at 
the seashore. These being arrived, with the 
prudent Eurylochus at their head, they all made 
themselves comfortable in Circe’s enchanted pal¬ 
ace, until quite rested and refreshed from the 
toils and hardships of their voyage. 

410 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


M OTHER CERES was exceedingly 
fond of her daughter Proserpina, and 
seldom let her go alone into the fields. 
But, just at the time when my story begins, the 
good lady was very busy, because she had the 
care of the wheat, and the Indian corn, and the 
rye and barley, and, in short, of the crops of 
every kind, all over the earth; and as the season 
had thus far been uncommonly backward, it was 
necessary to make the harvest ripen more speed¬ 
ily than usual. So she put on her turban, made 
of poppies (a kind of flower which she was al¬ 
ways noted for wearing), and got into her car 
drawn by a pair of winged dragons, and was just 
ready to set off. 

“ Dear mother,” said Proserpina, “ I shall be 
very lonely while you are away. May I not run 
down to the shore, and ask some of the sea- 
nymphs to come up out of the waves and play 
with me ? ” 

“ Yes, child,” answered Mother Ceres. “ The 
sea-nymphs are good creatures, and will never 
lead you into any harm. But you must take 
care not to stray away from them, nor go wander¬ 
ing about the fields by yourself. Young girls, 
411 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


without their mothers to take care of them, are 
very apt to get into mischief.” 

The child promised to be as prudent as if 
she were a grown-up woman, and, by the time 
the winged dragons had whirled the car out 
of sight, she was already on the shore, calling 
to the sea-nymphs to come and play with her. 
They knew Proserpina’s voice, and were not 
long in showing their glistening faces and sea- 
green hair above the water, at the bottom of 
which was their home. They brought along 
with them a great many beautiful shells; and, 
sitting down on the moist sand, where the surf 
wave broke over them, they busied themselves 
in making a necklace, which they hung round 
Proserpina’s neck. By way of showing her grati¬ 
tude, the child besought them to go with her 
a little way into the fields, so that they might 
gather abundance of flowers, with which she 
would make each of her kind playmates a wreath. 

“ O no, dear Proserpina,” cried the sea- 
nymphs ; “ we dare not go with you upon the 
dry land. We are apt to grow faint, unless at 
every breath we can snuff up the salt breeze of 
the ocean. And don’t you see how careful we 
are to let the surf wave break over us every mo¬ 
ment or two, so as to keep ourselves comfortably 
moist ? If it were not for that, we should soon 
look like bunches of uprooted seaweed dried in 
the sun.” 


412 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

“It is a great pity,” said Proserpina. “ But 
do you wait for me here, and I will run and 
gather my apron full of flowers, and be back 
again before the surf wave has broken ten times 
over you. I long to make you some wreaths 
that shall be as lovely as this necklace of many- 
colored shells.” 

“We will wait, then,” answered the sea- 
nymphs. “ But while you are gone, we may as 
well lie down on a bank of soft sponge, under 
the water. The air to-day is a little too dry for 
our comfort. But we will pop up our heads 
every few minutes to see if you are coming.” 

The young Proserpina ran quickly to a spot 
where, only the day before, she had seen a great 
many flowers. These, however, were now a lit¬ 
tle past their bloom; and wishing to give her 
friends the freshest and loveliest blossoms, she 
strayed farther into the fields, and found some 
that made her scream with delight. Never had 
she met with such exquisite flowers before, — 
violets, so large and fragrant, — roses, with so 
rich and delicate a blush, — such superb hya¬ 
cinths and such aromatic pinks, — and many 
others, some of which seemed to be of new 
shapes and colors. Two or three times, more¬ 
over, she could not help thinking that a tuft of 
most splendid flowers had suddenly sprouted out 
of the earth before her very eyes, as if on pur¬ 
pose to tempt her a few steps farther. Proser- 
4i3 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


pina’s apron was soon filled and brimming over 
with delightful blossoms. She was on the point 
of turning back in order to rejoin the sea- 
nymphs, and sit with them on the moist sands, 
all twining wreaths together. But, a little far¬ 
ther on, what should she behold ? It was a large 
shrub, completely covered with the most mag¬ 
nificent flowers in the world. 

“ The darlings ! ” cried Proserpina; and then 
she thought to herself, “ I was looking at that 
spot only a moment ago. How strange it is 
that I did not see the flowers ! ” 

The nearer she approached the shrub, the 
more attractive it looked, until she came quite 
close to it; and then, although its beauty was 
richer than words can tell, she hardly knew 
whether to like it or not. It bore above a hun¬ 
dred flowers of the most brilliant hues, and each 
different from the others, but all having a kind 
of resemblance among themselves, which showed 
them to be sister blossoms. But there was a 
deep, glossy lustre on the leaves of the shrub, 
and on the petals of the flowers, that made Pro¬ 
serpina doubt whether they might not be poi¬ 
sonous. To tell you the truth, foolish as it 
may seem, she was half inclined to turn round 
and run away. 

u What a silly child I am ! ” thought she, 
taking courage. “ It is really the most beauti¬ 
ful shrub that ever sprang out of the earth. I 
414 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


will pull it up by the roots, and carry it home, 
and plant it in my mother’s garden.” 

Holding up her apron full of flowers with 
her left hand, Proserpina seized the large shrub 
with the other, and pulled and pulled, but was 
hardly able to loosen the soil about its roots. 
What a deep-rooted plant it was ! Again the 
girl pulled with all her might, and observed that 
the earth began to stir and crack to some dis¬ 
tance around the stem. She gave another pull, 
but relaxed her hold, fancying that there was a 
rumbling sound right beneath her feet. Did 
the roots extend down into some enchanted 
cavern ? Then, laughing at herself for so child¬ 
ish a notion, she made another effort; up came 
the shrub, and Proserpina staggered back, hold¬ 
ing the stem triumphantly in her hand, and gaz¬ 
ing at the deep hole which its roots had left in 
the soil. 

Much to her astonishment, this hole kept 
spreading wider and wider, and growing deeper 
and deeper, until it really seemed to have no 
bottom ; and all the while, there came a rum¬ 
bling noise out of its depths, louder and louder, 
and nearer and nearer, and sounding like the 
tramp of horses’ hoofs and the rattling of wheels. 
Too much frightened to run away, she stood 
straining her eyes into this wonderful cavity, 
and soon saw a team of four sable horses, snort¬ 
ing smoke out of their nostrils, and tearing their 
4i5 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


way out of the earth with a splendid golden 
chariot whirling at their heels. They leaped 
out of the bottomless hole, chariot and all; and 
there they were, tossing their black manes, 
flourishing their black tails, and curveting with 
every one of their hoofs off the ground at once, 
close by the spot where Proserpina stood. In 
the chariot sat the figure of a man, richly 
dressed, with a crown on his head, all flaming 
with diamonds. He was of a noble aspect, and 
rather handsome, but looked sullen and discon¬ 
tented ; and he kept rubbing his eyes and shad¬ 
ing them with his hand, as if he did not live 
enough in the sunshine to be very fond of its 
light. 

As soon as this personage saw the affrighted 
Proserpina, he beckoned her to come a little 
nearer. 

<c Do not be afraid,” said he, with as cheerful 
a smile as he knew how to put on. “ Come ! 
Will not you like to ride a little way with me, 
in my beautiful chariot ? ” 

But Proserpina was so alarmed, that she 
wished for nothing but to get out of his reach. 
And no wonder. The stranger did not look 
remarkably good natured, in spite of his smile; 
and as for his voice, its tones were deep and 
stern, and sounded as much like the rumbling 
of an earthquake under ground as anything else. 
As is always the case with children in trouble, 
416 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


Proserpina’s first thought was to call for her 
mother. 

“ Mother, Mother Ceres ! ” cried she, all in 
a tremble. “ Come quickly and save me.” 

But her voice was too faint for her mother to 
hear. Indeed, it is most probable that Ceres 
was then a thousand miles off, making the corn 
grow in some far-distant country. Nor could 
it have availed her poor daughter, even had she 
been within hearing ; for no sooner did Proser¬ 
pina begin to cry out, than the stranger leaped 
to the ground, caught the child in his arms, and 
again mounting the chariot, shook the reins, 
and shouted to the four black horses to set off. 
They immediately broke into so swift a gallop 
that it seemed rather like flying through the air 
than running along the earth. In a moment, 
Proserpina lost sight of the pleasant vale of 
Enna, in which she had always dwelt. Another 
instant, and even the summit of Mount iEtna 
had become so blue in the distance, that she 
could scarcely distinguish it from the smoke 
that gushed out of its crater. But still the poor 
child screamed, and scattered her apron full of 
flowers along the way, and left a long cry trail¬ 
ing behind the chariot; and many mothers, to 
whose ears it came, ran quickly to see if any 
mischief had befallen their children. But Mo¬ 
ther Ceres was a great way off, and could not 
hear the cry. 


4i7 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


As they rode on, the stranger did his best to 
soothe her. 

“ Why should you be so frightened, my 
pretty child ? ” said he, trying to soften his 
rough voice. “ I promise not to do you any 
harm. What! You have been gathering flow¬ 
ers ? Wait till we come to my palace, and I 
will give you a garden full of prettier flowers 
than those, all made of pearls, and diamonds, 
and rubies. Can you guess who I am ? They 
call my name Pluto, and I am the king of dia¬ 
monds and all other precious stones. Every 
atom of the gold and silver that lies under the 
earth belongs to me, to say nothing of the cop¬ 
per and iron, and of the coal mines, which sup¬ 
ply me with abundance of fuel. Do you see 
this splendid crown upon my head ? You may 
have it for a plaything. O, we shall be very 
good friends, and you will find me more agree¬ 
able than you expect, when once we get out of 
this troublesome sunshine. ,, 

“ Let me go home ! ” cried Proserpina, — 
“ let me go home ! ” 

“My home is better than your mother’s,” 
answered King Pluto. “ It is a palace, all made 
of gold, with crystal windows ; and because 
there is little or no sunshine thereabouts, the 
apartments are illuminated with diamond lamps. 
You never saw anything half so magnificent as 
my throne. If you like, you may sit down on 
418 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


it, and be my little queen, and I will sit on the 
footstool.” 

“ I don’t care for golden palaces and thrones,” 
sobbed Proserpina. “ O, my mother, my mo¬ 
ther ! Carry me back to my mother ! ” 

But King Pluto, as he called himself, only 
shouted to his steeds to go faster. 

“ Pray do not be foolish, Proserpina,” said 
he in rather a sullen tone. “ I offer you my 
palace and my crown, and all the riches that are 
under the earth; and you treat me as if I were 
doing you an injury. The one thing which my 
palace needs is a merry little maid, to run up 
stairs and down, and cheer up the rooms with 
her smile. And this is what you must do for 
King Pluto.” 

“ Never ! ” answered Proserpina, looking as 
miserable as she could. “ I shall never smile 
again till you set me down at my mother’s 
door.” 

But she might just as well have talked to the 
wind that whistled past them ; for Pluto urged 
on his horses, and went faster than ever. Pro¬ 
serpina continued to cry out, and screamed so 
long and so loudly, that her poor little voice 
was almost screamed away; and when it was 
nothing but a whisper, she happened to cast her 
eyes over a great, broad field of waving grain 
— and whom do you think she saw ? Who, 
but Mother Ceres, making the corn grow, and 
419 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


too busy to notice the golden chariot as it went 
rattling along. The child mustered all her 
strength, and gave one more scream, but was 
out of sight before Ceres had time to turn her 
head. 

King Pluto had taken a road which now be¬ 
gan to grow excessively gloomy. It was bor¬ 
dered on each side with rocks and precipices, 
between which the rumbling of the chariot 
wheels was reverberated with a noise like rolling 
thunder. The trees and bushes that grew in 
the crevices of the rocks had very dismal foli¬ 
age ; and by and by, although it was hardly 
noon, the air became obscured with a gray twi¬ 
light. The black horses had rushed along so 
swiftly, that they were already beyond the limits 
of the sunshine. But the duskier it grew, the 
more did Pluto's visage assume an air of satis¬ 
faction. After all, he was not an ill-looking 
person, especially when he left off twisting his 
features into a smile that did not belong to 
them. Proserpina peeped at his face through 
the gathering dusk, and hoped that he might 
not be so very wicked as she at first thought 
him. 

“ Ah, this twilight is truly refreshing," said 
King Pluto, cc after being so tormented with that 
ugly and impertinent glare of the sun. How 
much more agreeable is lamplight or torchlight, 
more particularly when reflected from diamonds ! 

420 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

It will be a magnificent sight when we get to 
my palace.’’ 

“ Is it much farther?” asked Proserpina. 
“ And will you carry me back when I have seen 
it?” 

“ We will talk of that by and by,” answered 
Pluto. u We are just entering my dominions. 
Do you see that tall gateway before us ? When 
we pass those gates, we are at home. And 
there lies my faithful mastiff at the threshold. 
Cerberus ! Cerberus ! Come hither, my good 
dog ! ” 

So saying, Pluto pulled at the reins, and 
stopped the chariot right between the tall, mas¬ 
sive pillars of the gateway. The mastiff of 
which he had spoken got up from the threshold, 
and stood on his hinder legs, so as to put his 
fore paws on the chariot wheels. But, my stars, 
what a strange dog it was ! Why, he was a big, 
rough, ugly-looking monster, with three sepa¬ 
rate heads, and each of them fiercer than the two 
others; but, fierce as they were, King Pluto 
patted them all. He seemed as fond of his 
three-headed dog as if it had been a sweet little 
spaniel, with silken ears and curly hair. Cer¬ 
berus, on the other hand, was evidently rejoiced 
to see his master, and expressed his attachment, 
as other dogs do, by wagging his tail at a great 
rate. Proserpina’s eyes being drawn to it by 
its brisk motion, she saw that this tail was 
421 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


neither more nor less than a live dragon, with 
fiery eyes, and fangs that had a very poisonous 
aspect. And while the three-headed Cerberus 
was fawning so lovingly on King Pluto, there 
was the dragon tail wagging against its will, and 
looking as cross and ill natured as you can ima¬ 
gine, on its own separate account. 

<c Will the dog bite me ? ” asked Proserpina, 
shrinking closer to Pluto. “ What an ugly 
creature he is!” 

“ O, never fear,” answered her companion. 
“He never harms people, unless they try to 
enter my dominions without being sent for, or 
to get away when I wish to keep them here. 
Down, Cerberus ! Now, my pretty Proserpina, 
we will drive on.” 

On went the chariot, and King Pluto seemed 
greatly pleased to find himself once more in his 
own kingdom. He drew Proserpina's atten¬ 
tion to the rich veins of gold that were to be 
seen among the rocks, and pointed to several 
places where one stroke of a pickaxe would 
loosen a bushel of diamonds. All along the 
road, indeed, there were sparkling gems, which 
would have been of inestimable value above 
ground, but which were here reckoned of the 
meaner sort, and hardly worth a beggar’s stoop¬ 
ing for. 

Not far from the gateway, they came to a 
bridge, which seemed to be built of iron. Pluto 
422 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


stopped the chariot, and bade Proserpina look 
at the stream which was gliding so lazily be¬ 
neath it. Never in her life had she beheld so 
torpid, so black, so muddy looking a stream : 
its waters reflected no images of anything that 
was on the banks, and it moved as sluggishly as 
if it had quite forgotten which way it ought to 
flow, and had rather stagnate than flow either 
one way or the other. 

“ This is the river Lethe,” observed King 
Pluto. “ Is it not a very pleasant stream ? ” 

“ I think it a very dismal one,” said Proser¬ 
pina. 

“It suits my taste, however,” answered Pluto, 
who was apt to be sullen when anybody dis¬ 
agreed with him. “ At all events, its water has 
one very excellent quality; for a single draught 
of it makes people forget every care and sorrow 
that has hitherto tormented them. Only sip a 
little of it, my dear Proserpina, and you will 
instantly cease to grieve for your mother, and 
will have nothing in your memory that can pre¬ 
vent your being perfectly happy in my palace. 
I will send for some, in a golden goblet, the 
moment we arrive.” 

“ O, no, no, no ! ” cried Proserpina, weep¬ 
ing afresh. “ I had a thousand times rather be 
miserable with remembering my mother, than 
be happy in forgetting her. That dear, dear 
mother! I never, never will forget her.” 

423 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


“ We shall see/* said King Pluto. “ You 
do not know what fine times we will have in 
my palace. Here we are just at the portal. 
These pillars are solid gold, I assure you.” 

He alighted from the chariot, and, taking 
Proserpina in his arms, carried her up a lofty 
flight of steps into the great hall of the palace. 
It was splendidly illuminated by means of large 
precious stones, of various hues, which seemed 
to burn like so many lamps, and glowed with a 
hundred-fold radiance all through the vast apart¬ 
ment. And yet there was a kind of gloom in 
the midst of this enchanted light; nor was there 
a single object in the hall that was really agree¬ 
able to behold, except the little Proserpina her¬ 
self, a lovely child, with one earthly flower which 
she had not let fall from her hand. It is my 
opinion that even King Pluto had never been 
happy in his palace, and that this was the true 
reason why he had stolen away Proserpina, in 
order that he might have something to love, 
instead of cheating his heart any longer with this 
tiresome magnificence. And, though he pre¬ 
tended to dislike the sunshine of the upper 
world, yet the effect of the child’s presence, 
bedimmed as she was by her tears, was as if a 
faint and watery sunbeam had somehow or other 
found its way into the enchanted hall. 

Pluto now summoned his domestics, and bade 
them lose no time in preparing a most sumptu- 
424 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

ous banquet, and above all things, not to fail 
of setting a golden beaker of the water of Lethe 
by Proserpina’s plate. 

“ I will neither drink that nor anything else,” 
said Proserpina. “ Nor will I taste a morsel 
of food, even if you keep me forever in your 
palace.” 

“ I should be sorry for that,” replied King 
Pluto, patting her cheek; for he really wished 
to be kind, if he had only known how. “You 
are a spoiled child, I perceive, my little Proser¬ 
pina ; but when you see the nice things which 
my cook will make for you, your appetite will 
quickly come again.” 

Then, sending for the head cook, he gave 
strict orders that all sorts of delicacies, such as 
young people are usually fond of, should be set 
before Proserpina. He had a secret motive in 
this; for, you are to understand, it is a fixed 
law, that, when persons are carried off to the 
land of magic, if they once taste any food there, 
they can never get back to their friends. Now, 
if King Pluto had been cunning enough to offer 
Proserpina some fruit, or bread and milk (which 
was the simple fare to which the child had al¬ 
ways been accustomed), it is very probable that 
she would soon have been tempted to eat it. 
But he left the matter entirely to his cook, who, 
like all other cooks, considered nothing fit to 
eat unless it were rich pastry, or highly seasoned 

425 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


meat, or spiced sweet cakes, — things which 
Proserpina's mother had never given her, and 
the smell of which quite took away her appetite, 
instead of sharpening it. 

But my story must now clamber out of King 
Pluto’s dominions, and see what Mother Ceres 
has been about, since she was bereft of her 
daughter. We had a glimpse of her, as you re¬ 
member, half hidden among the waving grain, 
while the four black steeds were swiftly whirling 
along the chariot in which her beloved Proser¬ 
pina was so unwillingly borne away. You re¬ 
collect, too, the loud scream which Proserpina 
gave, just when the chariot was out of sight. 

Of all the child’s outcries, this last shriek 
was the only one that reached the ears of Mo¬ 
ther Ceres. She had mistaken the rumbling 
of the chariot wheels for a peal of thunder, and 
imagined that a shower was coming up, and 
that it would assist her in making the corn grow. 
But, at the sound of Proserpina’s shriek, she 
started, and looked about in every direction, 
not knowing whence it came, but feeling almost 
certain that it was her daughter’s voice. It 
seemed so unaccountable, however, that the girl 
should have strayed over so many lands and 
seas (which she herself could not have traversed 
without the aid of her winged dragons), that the 
good Ceres tried to believe that it must be the 
child of some other parent, and not her own 
426 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


darling Proserpina, who had uttered this la¬ 
mentable cry. Nevertheless, it troubled her 
with a vast many tender fears, such as are ready 
to bestir themselves in every mother’s heart, 
when she finds it necessary to go away from her 
dear children without leaving them under the 
care of some maiden aunt, or other such faithful 
guardian. So she quickly left the field in which 
she had been so busy; and, as her work was 
not half done, the grain looked, next day, as if 
it needed both sun and rain, and as if it were 
blighted in the ear, and had something the mat¬ 
ter with its roots. 

The pair of dragons must have had very 
nimble wings ; for in less than an hour Mother 
Ceres had alighted at the door of her home, 
and found it empty. Knowing, however, that 
the child was fond of sporting on the seashore, 
she hastened thither as fast as she could, and 
there beheld the wet faces of the poor sea- 
nymphs peeping over a wave. All this while, 
the good creatures had been waiting on the bank 
of sponge, and, once every half-minute or so, 
had popped up their four heads above water, 
to see if their playmate were yet coming back. 
When they saw Mother Ceres, they sat down 
on the crest of the surf wave, and let it toss 
them ashore at her feet. 

“ Where is Proserpina ? ” cried Ceres. 
“ Where is my child ? Tell me, you naughty 
42 7 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 

sea-nymphs, have you enticed her under the 
sea? ” 

“ O no, good Mother Ceres,” said the inno¬ 
cent sea-nymphs, tossing back their green ring¬ 
lets, and looking her in the face. “ We never 
should dream of such a thing. Proserpina has 
been at play with us, it is true ; but she left us 
a long while ago, meaning only to run a little 
way upon the dry land, and gather some flowers 
for a wreath. This was early in the day, and we 
have seen nothing of her since.” 

Ceres scarcely waited to hear what the nymphs 
had to say, before she hurried off to make in¬ 
quiries all through the neighborhood. But no¬ 
body told her anything that could enable the 
poor mother to guess what had become of Pro¬ 
serpina. A fisherman, it is true, had noticed 
her little footprints in the sand, as he went home¬ 
ward along the beach with a basket of fish ; a 
rustic had seen the child stooping to gather 
flowers ; several persons had heard either the rat¬ 
tling of chariot wheels, or the rumbling of distant 
thunder ; and one old woman, while plucking 
vervain and catnip, had heard a scream, but 
supposed it to be some childish nonsense, and 
therefore did not take the trouble to look up. 
The stupid people ! It took them such a tedi¬ 
ous while to tell the nothing that they knew, 
that it was dark night before Mother Ceres 
found out that she must seek her daughter else- 
428 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

where. So she lighted a torch, and set forth, 
resolving never to come back until Proserpina 
was discovered. 

In her haste and trouble of mind, she quite 
forgot her car and the winged dragons ; or, it 
may be, she thought that she could follow up 
the search more thoroughly on foot. At all 
events, this was the way in which she began her 
sorrowful journey, holding her torch before her, 
and looking carefully at every object along the 
path. And as it happened, she had not gone 
far before she found one of the magnificent 
flowers which grew on the shrub that Proserpina 
had pulled up. 

“ Ha ! ” thought Mother Ceres, examining 
it by torchlight. “ Here is mischief in this 
flower! The earth did not produce it by any 
help of mine, nor of its own accord. It is the 
work of enchantment, and is therefore poison¬ 
ous ; and perhaps it has poisoned my poor 
child.” 

But she put the poisonous flower in her 
bosom, not knowing whether she might ever 
find any other memorial of Proserpina. 

All night long, at the door of every cottage 
and farmhouse, Ceres knocked, and called up 
the weary laborers to inquire if they had seen 
her child; and they stood, gaping and half 
asleep, at the threshold, and answered her pity¬ 
ingly, and besought her to come in and rest. 

429 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


At the portal of every palace, too, she made so 
loud a summons that the menials hurried to 
throw open the gate, thinking that it must be 
some great king or queen, who would demand 
a banquet for supper and a stately chamber to 
repose in. And when they saw only a sad and 
anxious woman, with a torch in her hand and a 
wreath of withered poppies on her head, they 
spoke rudely, and sometimes threatened to set 
the dogs upon her. But nobody had seen Pro¬ 
serpina, nor could give Mother Ceres the least 
hint which way to seek her. Thus passed the 
night; and still she continued her search with¬ 
out sitting down to rest, or stopping to take 
food, or even remembering to put out the torch; 
although first the rosy dawn, and then the glad 
light of the morning sun, made its red flame look 
thin and pale. But I wonder what sort of stuff 
this torch was made of; for it burned dimly 
through the day, and at night was as bright as 
ever, and never was extinguished by the rain or 
wind, in all the weary days and nights while 
Ceres was seeking for Proserpina. 

It was not merely of human beings that she 
asked tidings of her daughter. In the woods 
and by the streams, she met creatures of an¬ 
other nature, who used, in those old times, to 
haunt the pleasant and solitary places, and were 
very sociable with persons who understood their 
language and customs, as Mother Ceres did. 
43 ° 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


Sometimes, for instance, she tapped with her fin¬ 
ger against the knotted trunk of a majestic oak, 
and immediately its rude bark would cleave 
asunder, and forth would step a beautiful mai¬ 
den, who was the hamadryad of the oak, dwell¬ 
ing inside of it, and sharing its long life, and re¬ 
joicing when its green leaves sported with the 
breeze. But not one of these leafy damsels 
had seen Proserpina. Then, going a little far¬ 
ther, Ceres would, perhaps, come to a fountain, 
gushing out of a pebbly hollow in the earth, 
and would dabble with her hand in the water. 
Behold, up through its sandy and pebbly bed, 
along with the fountain’s gush, a young woman 
with dripping hair would arise, and stand gaz¬ 
ing at Mother Ceres, half out of the water, and 
undulating up and down with its ever-restless 
motion. But when the mother asked whether 
her poor lost child had stopped to drink out of 
the fountain, the naiad, with weeping eyes (for 
these water-nymphs had tears to spare for every¬ 
body’s grief), would answer, “ No ! ” in a mur¬ 
muring voice, which was just like the murmur 
of the stream. 

Often, likewise, she encountered fauns, who 
looked like sunburnt country people, except 
that they had hairy ears, and little horns upon 
their foreheads, and the hinder legs of goats, on 
which they gambolled merrily about the woods 
and fields. They were a frolicsome kind of 
43 1 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


creature, but grew as sad as their cheerful dis¬ 
positions would allow when Ceres inquired for 
her daughter, and they had no good news to 
tell. But sometimes she came suddenly upon 
a rude gang of satyrs, who had faces like mon¬ 
keys and horses' tails behind them, and who 
were generally dancing in a very boisterous 
manner, with shouts of noisy laughter. When 
she stopped to question them, they would only 
laugh the louder, and make new merriment out 
of the lone woman's distress. How unkind of 
those ugly satyrs ! And once, while crossing 
a solitary sheep pasture, she saw a personage 
named Pan, seated at the foot of a tall rock, 
and making music on a shepherd's flute. He, 
too, had horns, and hairy ears, and goat’s feet; 
but, being acquainted with Mother Ceres, he 
answered her question as civilly as he knew 
how, and invited her to taste some milk and 
honey out of a wooden bowl. But neither 
could Pan tell her what had become of Proser¬ 
pina, any better than the rest of these wild peo¬ 
ple. 

And thus Mother Ceres went wandering about 
for nine long days and nights, finding no trace 
of Proserpina, unless it were now and then a 
withered flower; and these she picked up and 
put in her bosom, because she fancied that they 
might have fallen from her poor child’s hand. 
All day she travelled onward through the hot 
43 2 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


sun ; and at night, again, the flame of the torch 
would redden and gleam along the pathway, 
and she continued her search by its light, with¬ 
out ever sitting down to rest. 

On the tenth day, she chanced to espy the 
mouth of a cavern, within which (though it was 
bright noon everywhere else) there would have 
been only a dusky twilight; but it so happened 
that a torch was burning there. It flickered, 
and struggled with the duskiness, but could not 
half light up the gloomy cavern with all its 
melancholy glimmer. Ceres was resolved to 
leave no spot without a search; so she peeped 
into the entrance of the cave, and lighted it up 
a little more, by holding her own torch before 
her. In so doing, she caught a glimpse of what 
seemed to be a woman, sitting on the brown 
leaves of the last autumn, a great heap of which 
had been swept into the cave by the wind. This 
woman (if woman it were) was by no means so 
beautiful as many of her sex ; for her head, they 
tell me, was shaped very much like a dog’s, and, 
by way of ornament, she wore a wreath of snakes 
around it. But Mother Ceres, the moment she 
saw her, knew that this was an odd kind of a 
person, who put all her enjoyment in being 
miserable, and never would have a word to say 
to other people, unless they were as melancholy 
and wretched as she herself delighted to be. 

“ I am wretched enough now,” thought poor 
433 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


Ceres, “ to talk with this melancholy Hecate, 
were she ten times sadder than ever she was 
yet.” 

So she stepped into the cave, and sat down on 
the withered leaves by the dog-headed woman’s 
side. In all the world, since her daughter’s loss, 
she had found no other companion. 

“ O Hecate,” said she, “ if ever you lose a 
daughter, you will know what sorrow is. Tell 
me, for pity’s sake, have you seen my poor child 
Proserpina pass by the mouth of your cavern ? ” 
“ No,” answered Hecate in a cracked voice, 
and sighing betwixt every word or two, — “ no. 
Mother Ceres, I have seen nothing of your 
daughter. But my ears, you must know, are 
made in such a way that all cries of distress and 
affright all over the world are pretty sure to 
find their way to them; and nine days ago, as 
I sat in my cave, making myself very misera¬ 
ble, I heard the voice of a young girl, shrieking 
as if in great distress. Something terrible has 
happened to the child, you may rest assured. 
As well as I could judge, a dragon, or some 
other cruel monster, was carrying her away.” 

“ You kill me by saying so,” cried Ceres, al¬ 
most ready to faint. “ Where was the sound, 
and which way did it seem to go ? ” 

“ It passed very swiftly along,” said Hecate, 
“ and at the same time there was a heavy rum¬ 
bling of wheels towards the eastward. I can tell 
434 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


you nothing more, except that, in my honest 
opinion, you will never see your daughter again. 
The best advice I can give you is, to take up 
your abode in this cavern, where we will be the 
two most wretched women in the world.” 

“Not yet, dark Hecate,” replied Ceres. 
“ But do you first come with your torch, and 
help me to seek for my lost child. And when 
there shall be no more hope of finding her (if 
that black day is ordained to come), then, if you 
will give me room to fling myself down, either 
on these withered leaves or on the naked rock, 
I will show you what it is to be miserable. But, 
until I know that she has perished from the face 
of the earth, I will not allow myself space even 
to grieve.” 

The dismal Hecate did not much like the 
idea of going abroad into the sunny world. But 
then she reflected that the sorrow of the discon¬ 
solate Ceres would be like a gloomy twilight 
round about them both, let the sun shine ever 
so brightly, and that therefore she might enjoy 
her bad spirits quite as well as if she were to 
stay in the cave. So she finally consented to 
go, and they set out together, both carrying 
torches, although it was broad daylight and 
clear sunshine. The torchlight seemed to make 
a gloom ; so that the people whom they met 
along the road could not very distinctly see 
their figures ; and, indeed, if they once caught 
435 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


a glimpse of Hecate, with the wreath of snakes 
round her forehead, they generally thought it 
prudent to run away, without waiting for a sec¬ 
ond glance. 

As the pair travelled along in this woe-begone 
manner, a thought struck Ceres. 

“ There is one person,” she exclaimed, c< who 
must have seen my poor child, and can doubt¬ 
less tell what has become of her. Why did not 
I think of him before ? It is Phoebus.” 

c< What,” said Hecate, “ the young man that 
always sits in the sunshine ? O, pray do not 
think of going near him. He is a gay, light, 
frivolous young fellow, and will only smile in 
your face. And besides, there is such a glare 
of the sun about him, that he will quite blind 
my poor eyes, which I have almost wept away 
already.” 

“ You have promised to be my companion,” 
answered Ceres. “ Come, let us make haste, 
or the sunshine will be gone, and Phoebus along 
with it.” 

Accordingly, they went along in quest of 
Phoebus, both of them sighing grievously, and 
Hecate, to say the truth, making a great deal 
worse lamentation than Ceres; for all the plea¬ 
sure she had, you know, lay in being miserable, 
and therefore she made the most of it. By and 
by, after a pretty long journey, they arrived at 
the sunniest spot in the whole world. There 
43 6 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

they beheld a beautiful young man, with long, 
curling ringlets, which seemed to be made of 
golden sunbeams; his garments were like light 
summer clouds; and the expression of his face 
was so exceedingly vivid, that Hecate held her 
hands before her eyes, muttering that he ought 
to wear a black veil. Phoebus (for this was the 
very person whom they were seeking) had a lyre 
in his hands, and was making its chords tremble 
with sweet music ; at the same time singing a 
most exquisite song, which he had recently com¬ 
posed. For, besides a great many other accom¬ 
plishments, this young man was renowned for 
his admirable poetry. 

As Ceres and her dismal companion ap¬ 
proached him, Phoebus smiled on them so 
cheerfully that Hecate’s wreath of snakes gave 
a spiteful hiss, and Hecate heartily wished her¬ 
self back in her cave. But as for Ceres, she 
was too earnest in her grief either to know or 
care whether Phoebus smiled or frowned. 

“ Phoebus ! ” exclaimed she, <c I am in great 
trouble, and have come to you for assistance. 
Can you tell me what has become of my dear 
child Proserpina ? ” 

“ Proserpina ! Proserpina, did you call her 
name ? ” answered Phoebus, endeavoring to re¬ 
collect ; for there was such a continual flow of 
pleasant ideas in his mind that he was apt to for¬ 
get what had happened no longer ago than yes- 
437 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


terday. “ Ah, yes, I remember her now. A 
very lovely child, indeed. I am happy to tell 
you, my dear madam, that I did see the little 
Proserpina not many days ago. You may make 
yourself perfectly easy about her. She is safe, 
and in excellent hands.” 

“ O, where is my dear child ? ” cried Ceres, 
clasping her hands and flinging herself at his 
feet. 

“ Why,” said Phoebus, — and as he spoke, 
he kept touching his lyre so as to make a 
thread of music run in and out among his 
words, — cc as the little damsel was gathering 
flowers (and she has really a very exquisite taste 
for flowers) she was suddenly snatched up by 
King Pluto, and carried off to his dominions. 
I have never been in that part of the universe ; 
but the royal palace, I am told, is built in a 
very noble style of architecture, and of the most 
splendid and costly materials. Gold, diamonds, 
pearls, and all manner of precious stones will 
be your daughter’s ordinary playthings. I re¬ 
commend to you, my dear lady, to give your¬ 
self no uneasiness. Proserpina’s sense of beauty 
will be duly gratified, and, even in spite of the 
lack of sunshine, she will lead a very enviable 
life.” 

“ Hush ! Say not such a word ! ” answered 
Ceres indignantly. “ What is there to gratify 
her heart ? What are all the splendors you 
43 8 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


speak of without affection ? I must have her 
back again. Will you go with me, Phoebus, to 
demand my daughter of this wicked Pluto? ” 

“ Pray excuse me,” replied Phoebus, with an 
elegant obeisance. “ I certainly wish you suc¬ 
cess, and regret that my own affairs are so im¬ 
mediately pressing that I cannot have the plea¬ 
sure of attending you. Besides, I am not upon 
the best of terms with King Pluto. To tell you 
the truth, his three-headed mastiff would never 
let me pass the gateway; for I should be com¬ 
pelled to take a sheaf of sunbeams along with 
me, and those, you know, are forbidden things 
in Pluto’s kingdom.” 

“ Ah, Phoebus,” said Ceres, with bitter mean¬ 
ing in her words, “ you have a harp instead of a 
heart. Farewell.” 

“ Will not you stay a moment,” asked Phoe¬ 
bus, “ and hear me turn the pretty and touching 
story of Proserpina into extemporary verses ? ” 
But Ceres shook her head, and hastened away, 
along with Hecate. Phoebus (who, as I have 
told you, was an exquisite poet) forthwith began 
to make an ode about the poor mother’s grief; 
and, if we were to judge of his sensibility by 
this beautiful production, he must have been 
endowed with a very tender heart. But when a 
poet gets into the habit of using his heartstrings 
to make chords for his lyre, he may thrum upon 
them as much as he will, without any great pain 
439 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


to himself. Accordingly, though Phoebus sang 
a very sad song, he was as merry all the while 
as were the sunbeams amid which he dwelt. 

Poor Mother Ceres had now found out what 
had become of her daughter, but was not a whit 
happier than before. Her case, on the contrary, 
looked more desperate than ever. As long as 
Proserpina was above ground there might have 
been hopes of regaining her. But now that 
the poor child was shut up within the iron gates 
of the king of the mines, at the threshold of 
which lay the three-headed Cerberus, there 
seemed no possibility of her ever making her 
escape. The dismal Hecate, who loved to take 
the darkest view of things, told Ceres that she 
had better come with her to the cavern, and 
spend the rest of her life in being miserable. 
Ceres answered that Hecate was welcome to go 
back thither herself, but that, for her part, she 
would wander about the earth in quest of the 
entrance to King Pluto's dominions. And 
Hecate took her at her word, and hurried back 
to her beloved cave, frightening a great many 
little children with a glimpse of her dog's face, 
as she went. 

Poor Mother Ceres ! It is melancholy to 
think of her, pursuing her toilsome way all alone, 
and holding up that never-dying torch, the flame 
of which seemed an emblem of the grief and 
hope that burned together in her heart. So 
440 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

much did she suffer, that, though her aspect had 
been quite youthful when her troubles began, 
she grew to look like an elderly person in a 
very brief time. She cared not how she was 
dressed, nor had she ever thought of flinging 
away the wreath of withered poppies, which she 
put on the very morning of Proserpina’s dis¬ 
appearance. She roamed about in so wild a way, 
and with her hair so dishevelled, that people 
took her for some distracted creature, and never 
dreamed that this was Mother Ceres, who had 
the oversight of every seed which the husband¬ 
man planted. Nowadays, however, she gave 
herself no trouble about seed-time nor harvest, 
but left the farmers to take care of their own 
affairs, and the crops to fade or flourish, as the 
case might be. There was nothing, now, in 
which Ceres seemed to feel an interest, unless, 
when she saw children at play, or gathering 
flowers along the wayside. Then, indeed, she 
would stand and gaze at them with tears in her 
eyes. The children, too, appeared to have a 
sympathy with her grief, and would cluster them¬ 
selves in a little group about her knees, and 
look up wistfully in her face; and Ceres, after 
giving them a kiss all round, would lead them 
to their homes, and advise their mothers never 
to let them stray out of sight. 

“ For if they do,” said she, “ it may happen 
to you, as it has to me, that the iron-hearted 
441 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


King Pluto will take a liking to your darlings, 
and snatch them up in his chariot, and carry 
them away.” 

One day, during her pilgrimage in quest of 
the entrance to Pluto’s kingdom, she came to 
the palace of King Celeus, who reigned at 
Eleusis. Ascending a lofty flight of steps, she 
entered the portal, and found the royal house¬ 
hold in very great alarm about the queen’s baby. 
The infant, it seems, was sickly (being troubled 
with its teeth, I suppose), and would take no 
food, and was all the time moaning with pain. 
The queen — her name was Metanira — was 
desirous of finding a nurse; and when she be¬ 
held a woman of matronly aspect coming up the 
palace steps, she thought, in her own mind, that 
here was the very person whom she needed. So 
Queen Metanira ran to the door, with the poor 
wailing baby in her arms, and besought Ceres 
to take charge of it, or, at least, to tell her what 
would do it good. 

“ Will you trust the child entirely to me ? ” 
asked Ceres. 

“ Yes, and gladly too,” answered the queen, 
“ if you will devote all your time to him. For 
I can see that you have been a mother.” 

“You are right,” said Ceres. “I once had 
a child of my own. Well; I will be the nurse 
of this poor, sickly boy. But beware, I warn 
you, that you do not interfere with any kind of 
442 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


treatment which I may judge proper for him. 
If you do so, the poor infant must suffer for 
his mother’s folly.” 

Then she kissed the child, and it seemed to 
do him good ; for he smiled and nestled closely 
into her bosom. 

So Mother Ceres set her torch in a corner 
(where it kept burning all the while), and took 
up her abode in the palace of King Celeus, as 
nurse to the little Prince Demophoon. She 
treated him as if he were her own child, and 
allowed neither the king nor the queen to say 
whether he should be bathed in warm or cold 
water, or what he should eat, or how often he 
should take the air, or when he should be put 
to bed. You would hardly believe me, if I 
were to tell how quickly the baby prince got 
rid of his ailments, and grew fat, and rosy, and 
strong, and how he had two rows of ivory teeth 
in less time than any other little fellow, before 
or since. Instead of the palest, and wretchedest, 
and puniest imp in the world (as his own mother 
confessed him to be when Ceres first took him 
in charge), he was now a strapping baby, crowing, 
laughing, kicking up his heels, and rolling from 
one end of the room to the other. All the good 
women of the neighborhood crowded to the 
palace, and held up their hands, in unutterable 
amazement, at the beauty and wholesomeness 
of this darling little prince. Their wonder was 
443 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


the greater, because he was never seen to taste 
any food; not even so much as a cup of milk. 

“ Pray, nurse,” the queen kept saying, “ how 
is it that you make the child thrive so ? ” 

“ I was a mother once,” Ceres always replied ; 
“ and having nursed my own child, I know what 
other children need.” 

But Queen Metanira, as was very natural, 
had a great curiosity to know precisely what the 
nurse did to her child. One night, therefore, 
she hid herself in the chamber where Ceres and 
the little prince were accustomed to sleep. There 
was a fire in the chimney, and it had now crum¬ 
bled into great coals and embers, which lay 
glowing on the hearth, with a blaze flickering 
up now and then, and flinging a warm and ruddy 
light upon the walls. Ceres sat before the 
hearth with the child in her lap, and the fire¬ 
light making her shadow dance upon the ceiling 
overhead. She undressed the little prince, and 
bathed him all over with some fragrant liquid 
out of a vase. The next thing she did was to 
rake back the red embers, and make a hollow 
place among them, just where the backlog had 
been. At last, while the baby was crowing, and 
clapping its fat little hands, and laughing in the 
nurse’s face (just as you may have seen your 
little brother or sister do before going into its 
warm bath), Ceres suddenly laid him, all naked 
as he was, in the hollow among the red-hot em- 
444 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

bers. She then raked the ashes over him, and 
turned quietly away. 

You may imagine, if you can, how Queen 
Metanira shrieked, thinking nothing less than 
that her dear child would be burned to a cinder. 
She burst forth from her hiding-place, and run¬ 
ning to the hearth, raked open the fire, and 
snatched up poor little Prince Demophoon out 
of his bed of live coals, one of which he was 
griping in each of his fists. He immediately 
set up a grievous cry, as babies are apt to do 
when rudely startled out of a sound sleep. To 
the queen’s astonishment and joy, she could 
perceive no token of the child’s being injured 
by the hot fire in which he had lain. She now 
turned to Mother Ceres, and asked her to ex¬ 
plain the mystery. 

“ Foolish woman,” answered Ceres, “ did 
you not promise to intrust this poor infant en¬ 
tirely to me ? You little know the mischief 
you have done him. Had you left him to my 
care, he would have grown up like a child of ce¬ 
lestial birth, endowed with superhuman strength 
and intelligence, and would have lived forever. 
Do you imagine that earthly children are to be¬ 
come immortal without being tempered to it in 
the fiercest heat of the fire ? But you have 
ruined your own son. For though he will be 
a strong man and a hero in his day, yet, on 
account of your folly, he will grow old, and 
445 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


finally die, like the sons of other women. The 
weak tenderness of his mother has cost the poor 
boy an immortality. Farewell.” 

Saying these words, she kissed the little prince 
Demophoon, and sighed to think what he had 
lost, and took her departure without heeding 
Queen Metanira, who entreated her to remain, 
and cover up the child among the hot embers 
as often as she pleased. Poor baby ! He never 
slept so warmly again. 

While she dwelt in the king’s palace, Mother 
Ceres had been so continually occupied with 
taking care of the young prince, that her heart 
was a little lightened of its grief for Proserpina. 
But now, having nothing else to busy herself 
about, she became just as wretched as before. 
At length, in her despair, she came to the dread¬ 
ful resolution that not a stalk of grain, nor a 
blade of grass, not a potato, nor a turnip, nor 
any other vegetable that was good for man or 
beast to eat, should be suffered to grow until 
her daughter were restored. She even forbade 
the flowers to bloom, lest somebody’s heart 
should be cheered by their beauty. 

Now, as not so much as a head of asparagus 
ever presumed to poke itself out of the ground, 
without the especial permission of Ceres, you 
may conceive what a terrible calamity had 
here fallen upon the earth. The husbandmen 
ploughed and planted as usual; but there lay 
446 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


the rich black furrows, all as barren as a desert 
of sand. The pastures looked as brown in the 
sweet month of June as ever they did in chill 
November. The rich man’s broad acres and 
the cottager’s small garden patch were equally 
blighted. Every little girl’s flower bed showed 
nothing but dry stalks. The old people shook 
their white heads, and said that the earth had 
grown aged like themselves, and was no longer 
capable of wearing the warm smile of summer 
on its face. It was really piteous to see the 
poor, starving cattle and sheep, how they fol¬ 
lowed behind Ceres, lowing and bleating, as if 
their instinct taught them to expect help from 
her; and everybody that was acquainted with 
her power besought her to have mercy on the 
human race, and, at all events, to let the grass 
grow. But Mother Ceres, though naturally of 
an affectionate disposition, was now inexorable. 

“ Never,” said she. “ If the earth is ever 
again to see any verdure, it must first grow 
along the path which my daughter will tread in 
coming back to me.” 

Finally, as there seemed to be no other rem¬ 
edy, our old friend Quicksilver was sent post¬ 
haste to King Pluto, in hopes that he might 
be persuaded to undo the mischief he had done, 
and to set everything right again, by giving up 
Proserpina. Quicksilver accordingly made the 
best of his way to the great gate, took a flying 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


leap right over the three-headed mastiff, and 
stood at the door of the palace in an incon¬ 
ceivably short time. The servants knew him 
both by his face and garb; for his short cloak, 
and his winged cap and shoes, and his snaky staff 
had often been seen thereabouts in times gone 
by. He requested to be shown immediately 
into the king’s presence; and Pluto, who heard 
his voice from the top of the stairs, and who 
loved to recreate himself with Quicksilver’s 
merry talk, called out to him to come up. And 
while they settle their business together, we 
must inquire what Proserpina has been doing 
ever since we saw her last. 

The child had declared, as you may remem¬ 
ber, that she would not taste a mouthful of 
food as long as she should be compelled to re¬ 
main in King Pluto’s palace. How she con¬ 
trived to maintain her resolution, and at the 
same time to keep herself tolerably plump and 
rosy, is more than I can explain; but some 
young ladies, I am given to understand, pos¬ 
sess the faculty of living on air, and Proserpina 
seems to have possessed it too. At any rate, it 
was now six months since she left the outside 
of the earth ; and not a morsel, so far as the 
attendants were able to testify, had yet passed 
between her teeth. This was the more credita¬ 
ble to Proserpina, inasmuch as King Pluto had 
caused her to be tempted day after day, with 
448 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

all manner of sweetmeats, and richly preserved 
fruits, and delicacies of every sort, such as young 
people are generally most fond of. But her 
good mother had often told her of the hurtful¬ 
ness of these things ; and for that reason alone, 
if there had been no other, she would have re¬ 
solutely refused to taste them. 

All this time, being of a cheerful and active 
disposition, the little damsel was not quite so 
unhappy as you may have supposed. The 
immense palace had a thousand rooms, and 
was full of beautiful and wonderful objects. 
There was a never-ceasing gloom, it is true, 
which half hid itself among the innumerable 
pillars, gliding before the child as she wandered 
among them, and treading stealthily behind her 
in the echo of her footsteps. Neither was all 
the dazzle of the precious stones, which flamed 
with their own light, worth one gleam of natu¬ 
ral sunshine; nor could the most brilliant of 
the many-colored gems, which Proserpina had 
for playthings, vie with the simple beauty of 
the flowers she used to gather. But still, 
wherever the girl went, among those gilded 
halls and chambers, it seemed as if she carried 
nature and sunshine along with her, and as if 
she scattered dewy blossoms on her right hand 
and on her left. After Proserpina came, the 
palace was no longer the same abode of stately 
artifice and dismal magnificence that it had be- 
449 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


fore been. The inhabitants all felt this, and 
King Pluto more than any of them. 

“ My own little Proserpina,” he used to say, 
“ I wish you could like me a little better. We 
gloomy and cloudy-natured persons have often 
as warm hearts at bottom, as those of a more 
cheerful character. If you would only stay with 
me of your own accord, it would make me hap¬ 
pier than the possession of a hundred such pal¬ 
aces as this.” 

“Ah,” said Proserpina, “you should have 
tried to make me like you before carrying me 
off. And the best thing you can do now is, to 
let me go again. Then I might remember you 
sometimes, and think that you were as kind as 
you knew how to be. Perhaps, too, one day 
or other, I might come back, and pay you a 
visit.” 

“No, no,” answered Pluto, with his gloomy 
smile, “I will not trust you for that. You are 
too fond of living in the broad daylight, and 
gathering flowers. What an idle and childish 
taste that is ! Are not these gems, which I have 
ordered to be dug for you, and which are richer 
than any in my crown, — are they not prettier 
than a violet? ” 

“ Not half so pretty,” said Proserpina, snatch¬ 
ing the gems from Pluto's hand, and flinging 
them to the other end of the hall. “O my 
sweet violets, shall I never see you again ? ” 

450 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 

And then she burst into tears. But young 
people's tears have very little saltness or acid¬ 
ity in them, and do not inflame the eyes so 
much as those of grown persons; so that it is 
not to be wondered at if, a few moments after¬ 
wards, Proserpina was sporting through the 
hall almost as merrily as she and the four sea- 
nymphs had sported along the edge of the 
surf wave. King Pluto gazed after her, and 
wished that he, too, was a child. And little 
Proserpina, when she turned about, and beheld 
this great king standing in his splendid hall, 
and looking so grand, and so melancholy, and 
so lonesome, was smitten with a kind of pity. 
She ran back to him, and, for the first time in 
all her life, put her small soft hand in his. 

“ I love you a little," whispered she, looking 
up in his face. 

“ Do you, indeed, my dear child ? ” cried 
Pluto, bending his dark face down to kiss her; 
but Proserpina shrank away from the kiss, for 
though his features were noble, they were very 
dusky and grim. “Well, I have not deserved 
it of you, after keeping you a prisoner for so 
many months, and starving you, besides. Are 
you not terribly hungry? Is there nothing 
which I can get you to eat ? ” 

In asking this question the king of the 
mines had a very cunning purpose; for, you 
will recollect, if Proserpina tasted a morsel of 
45i 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


food in his dominions, she would never after¬ 
wards be at liberty to quit them. 

“No, indeed,” said Proserpina. “Your head 
cook is always baking, and stewing, and roast¬ 
ing, and rolling out paste, and contriving one 
dish or another, which he imagines may be to 
my liking. But he might just as well save him¬ 
self the trouble, poor, fat little man that he is. 
I have no appetite for anything in the world, 
unless it were a slice of bread of my mother’s 
own baking, or a little fruit out of her garden.” 

When Pluto heard this, he began to see that 
he had mistaken the best method of tempting 
Proserpina to eat. The cook’s made dishes 
and artificial dainties were not half so delicious, 
in the good child’s opinion, as the simple fare 
to which Mother Ceres had accustomed her. 
Wondering that he had never thought of it 
before, the king now sent one of his trusty at¬ 
tendants, with a large basket, to get some of 
the finest and juiciest pears, peaches, and plums 
which could anywhere be found in the upper 
world. Unfortunately, however, this was dur¬ 
ing the time when Ceres had forbidden any fruits 
or vegetables to grow ; and, after seeking all 
over the earth, King Pluto’s servant found only 
a single pomegranate, and that so dried up as to 
be not worth eating. Nevertheless, since there 
was no better to be had, he brought this dry, 
old, withered pomegranate home to the palace, 
452 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


put it on a magnificent golden salver, and car¬ 
ried it up to Proserpina. Now it happened, 
curiously enough, that, just as the servant was 
bringing the pomegranate into the back door of 
the palace, our friend Quicksilver had gone up 
the front steps, on his errand to get Proserpina 
away from King Pluto. 

As soon as Proserpina saw the pomegranate 
on the golden salver, she told the servant he 
had better take it away again. 

“ I shall not touch it, I assure you,” said she. 
“ If I were ever so hungry, I should never think 
of eating such a miserable, dry pomegranate as 
that.” 

“ It is the only one in the world,” said the 
servant. 

He set down the golden salver, with the 
wizened pomegranate upon it, and left the room. 
When he was gone, Proserpina could not help 
coming close to the table, and looking at this 
poor specimen of dried fruit with a great deal of 
eagerness ; for, to say the truth, on seeing some¬ 
thing that suited her taste, she felt all the six 
months’ appetite taking possession of her at 
once. To be sure, it was a very wretched-looking 
pomegranate, and seemed to have no more juice 
in it than an oyster-shell. But there was no 
choice of such things in King Pluto’s palace. 
This was the first fruit she had seen there, and 
the last she was ever likely to see ; and unless 
453 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


she ate it up immediately, it would grow drier 
than it already was, and be wholly unfit to eat. 

“ At least, I may smell it,” thought Proser¬ 
pina. 

So she took up the pomegranate, and applied 
it to her nose ; and, somehow or other, being 
in such close neighborhood to her mouth, the 
fruit found its way into that little red cave. 
Dear me ! what an everlasting pity ! Before 
Proserpina knew what she was about, her teeth 
had actually bitten it, of their own accord. Just 
as this fatal deed was done, the door of the 
apartment opened, and in came King Pluto, 
followed by Quicksilver, who had been urging 
him to let his little prisoner go. At the first 
noise of their entrance, Proserpina withdrew the 
pomegranate from her mouth. But Quicksilver 
(whose eyes were very keen, and his wits the 
sharpest that ever anybody had) perceived that 
the child was a little confused ; and seeing the 
empty salver, he suspected that she had been 
taking a sly nibble of something or other. As 
for honest Pluto, he never guessed at the secret. 

“ My little Proserpina,” said the king, sitting 
down, and affectionately drawing her between 
his knees, “ here is Quicksilver, who tells me 
that a great many misfortunes have befallen in¬ 
nocent people on account of my detaining you 
in my dominions. To confess the truth, I 
myself had already reflected that it was an un- 
454 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


justifiable act to take you away from your good 
mother. But, then, you must consider, my dear 
child, that this vast palace is apt to be gloomy 
(although the precious stones certainly shine 
very bright), and that I am not of the most 
cheerful disposition, and that therefore it was a 
natural thing enough to seek for the society of 
some merrier creature than myself. I hoped 
you would take my crown for a plaything, and 
me — ah, you laugh, naughty Proserpina — me, 
grim as I am, for a playmate. It was a silly ex¬ 
pectation. 

“ Not so extremely silly,” whispered Proser¬ 
pina. “ You have really amused me very much, 
sometimes.” 

“ Thank you,” said King Pluto rather dryly. 
“ But I can see, plainly enough, that you think 
my palace a dusky prison, and me the iron- 
hearted keeper of it. And an iron heart I should 
surely have, if I could detain you here any 
longer, my poor child, when it is now six 
months since you tasted food. I give you your 
liberty. Go with Quicksilver. Hasten home 
to your dear mother.” 

Now, although you may not have supposed 
it, Proserpina found it impossible to take leave 
of poor King Pluto without some regrets, and a 
good deal of’ compunction for not telling him 
about the pomegranate. She even shed a tear 
or two, thinking how lonely and cheerless the 
455 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


great palace would seem to him, with all its ugly 
glare of artificial light, after she herself, — his 
one little ray of natural sunshine, whom he had 
stolen, to be sure, but only because he valued 
her so much, — after she should have departed. 
I know not how many kind things she might 
have said to the disconsolate king of the mines, 
had not Quicksilver hurried her away. 

“ Come along quickly,” whispered he in her 
ear, “ or his Majesty may change his royal mind. 
And take care, above all things, that you say 
nothing of what was brought you on the golden 
salver.” 

In a very short time they had passed the 
great gateway (leaving the three-headed Cerbe¬ 
rus, barking, and yelping, and growling, with 
threefold din, behind them), and emerged upon 
the surface of the earth. It was delightful to 
behold, as Proserpina hastened along, how the 
path grew verdant behind and on either side of 
her. Wherever she set her blessed foot, there 
was at once a dewy flower. The violets gushed 
up along the wayside. The grass and the grain 
began to sprout with tenfold vigor and luxuri¬ 
ance, to make up for the dreary months that had 
been wasted in barrenness. The starved cat¬ 
tle immediately set to work grazing, after their 
long fast, and ate enormously all day, and got 
up at midnight to eat more. But I can assure 
you it was a busy time of year with the farmers, 
456 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


when they found the summer coming upon them 
with such a rush. Nor must I forget to say 
that all the birds in the whole world hopped 
about upon the newly blossoming trees, and 
sang together in a prodigious ecstasy of joy. 

Mother Ceres had returned to her deserted 
home, and was sitting disconsolately on the 
doorstep, with her torch burning in her hand. 
She had been idly watching the flame for some 
moments past, when, all at once, it flickered and 
went out. 

“ What does this mean ? ” thought she. 
“ It was an enchanted torch, and should have 
kept burning till my child came back.” 

Lifting her eyes, she was surprised to see a 
sudden verdure flashing over the brown and 
barren fields, exactly as you may have observed 
a golden hue gleaming far and wide across the 
landscape, from the just risen sun. 

“ Does the earth disobey me ? ” exclaimed 
Mother Ceres indignantly. “ Does it presume 
to be green, when I have bidden it be barren, 
until my daughter shall be restored to my 
arms ? ” 

“ Then open your arms, dear mother,” cried 
a well-known voice, “ and take your little daugh¬ 
ter into them.” 

And Proserpina came running, and flung her¬ 
self upon her mother’s bosom. Their mutual 
transport is not to be described. The grief of 
457 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


their separation had caused both of them to shed 
a great many tears ; and now they shed a great 
many more, because their joy could not so well 
express itself in any other way. 

When their hearts had grown a little more 
quiet. Mother Ceres looked anxiously at Pro¬ 
serpina. 

“ My child,” said she, “ did you taste any 
food while you were in King Pluto’s palace ? ” 

“ Dearest mother,” answered Proserpina, “ I 
will tell you the whole truth. Until this very 
morning, not a morsel of food had passed my 
lips. But to-day they brought me a pome¬ 
granate (a very dry one it was, and all shrivelled 
up, till there was little left of it but seeds and 
skin), and having seen no fruit for so long a 
time, and being faint with hunger, I was tempted 
just to bite it. The instant I tasted it. King 
Pluto and Quicksilver came into the room. I 
had not swallowed a morsel; but — dear mo¬ 
ther, I hope it was no harm — but six of the 
pomegranate seeds, I am afraid, remained in my 
mouth.” 

“ Ah, unfortunate child, and miserable me 1 ” 
exclaimed Ceres. “ For each of those six pome¬ 
granate seeds you must spend one month of 
every year in King Pluto’s palace. You are 
but half restored to your mother. Only six 
months with me, and six with that good-for-no¬ 
thing King of Darkness ! ” 

458 


THE POMEGRANATE SEEDS 


“ Do not speak so harshly of poor King 
Pluto/' said Proserpina, kissing her mother. 
“He has some very good qualities; and I really 
think I can bear to spend six months in his 
palace, if he will only let me spend the other 
six with you. He certainly did very wrong to 
carry me off; but then, as he says, it was but a 
dismal sort of life for him, to live in that great 
gloomy place all alone ; and it has made a 
wonderful change in his spirits to have a little 
girl to run up stairs and down. There is some 
comfort in making him so happy ; and so, upon 
the whole, dearest mother, let us be thankful 
that he is not to keep me the whole year 
round." 


459 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


W HEN Jason, the son of the dethroned 
King of Iolchos, was a little boy, he 
was sent away from his parents, and 
placed under the queerest schoolmaster that ever 
you heard of. This learned person was one 
of the people, or quadrupeds, called Centaurs. 
He lived in a cavern, and had the body and 
legs of a white horse, with the head and shoul¬ 
ders of a man. His name was Chiron ; and, in 
spite of his odd appearance, he was a very ex¬ 
cellent teacher, and had several scholars, who 
afterwards did him credit by making a great fig¬ 
ure in the world. The famous Hercules was 
one, and so was Achilles, and Philoctetes like¬ 
wise, and iEsculapius, who acquired immense 
repute as a doctor. The good Chiron taught 
his pupils how to play upon the harp, and how 
to cure diseases, and how to use the sword and 
shield, together with various other branches of 
education, in which the lads of those days used 
to be instructed, instead of writing and arith¬ 
metic. 

I have sometimes suspected that Master Chi¬ 
ron was not really very different from other 
people, but that, being a kind-hearted and 
460 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


merry old fellow, he was in the habit of mak¬ 
ing believe that he was a horse, and scrambling 
about the schoolroom on all fours, and letting 
the little boys ride upon his back. And so, 
when his scholars had grown up, and grown old, 
and were trotting their grandchildren on their 
knees, they told them about the sports of their 
school days ; and these young folks took the 
idea that their grandfathers had been taught 
their letters by a Centaur, half man and half 
horse. Little children, not quite understanding 
what is said to them, often get such absurd no¬ 
tions into their heads, you know. 

Be that as it may, it has always been told for 
a fact (and always will be told, as long as the 
world lasts), that Chiron, with the head of a 
schoolmaster, had the body and legs of a horse. 
Just imagine the grave old gentleman clattering 
and stamping into the schoolroom on his four 
hoofs, perhaps treading on some little fellow’s 
toes, flourishing his switch tail instead of a rod, 
and, now and then, trotting out of doors to eat 
a mouthful of grass ! I wonder what the black¬ 
smith charged him for a set of iron shoes. 

So Jason dwelt in the cave, with this four- 
footed Chiron, from the time that he was an in¬ 
fant, only a few months old, until he had grown 
to the full height of a man. He became a very 
good harper, I suppose, and skilful in the use 
of weapons, and tolerably acquainted with herbs 
461 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


and other doctor's stuff, and, above all, an ad¬ 
mirable horseman ; for, in teaching young peo¬ 
ple to ride, the good Chiron must have been 
without a rival among schoolmasters. At length, 
being now a tall and athletic youth, Jason re¬ 
solved to seek his fortune in the world, without 
asking Chiron’s advice, or telling him anything 
about the matter. This was very unwise, to be 
sure; and I hope none of you, my little hear¬ 
ers, will ever follow Jason’s example. But, you 
are to understand, he had heard how that he 
himself was a prince royal, and how his father. 
King iEson, had been deprived of the kingdom 
of Iolchos by a certain Pelias, who would also 
have killed Jason, had he not been hidden in 
the Centaur’s cave. And, being come to the 
strength of a man, Jason determined to set all 
this business to rights, and to punish the wicked 
Pelias for wronging his dear father, and to cast 
him down from the throne, and seat himself 
there instead. 

With this intention, he took a spear in each 
hand, and threw a leopard’s skin over his shoul¬ 
ders, to keep off the rain, and set forth on his 
travels, with his long yellow ringlets waving in 
the wind. The part of his dress on which he 
most prided himself was a pair of sandals, that 
had been his father’s. They were handsomely 
embroidered, and were tied upon his feet with 
strings of gold. But his whole attire was such 
462 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


as people did not very often see; and as he 
passed along, the women and children ran to the 
doors and windows, wondering whither this 
beautiful youth was journeying, with his leo¬ 
pard’s skin and his golden-tied sandals, and what 
heroic deeds he meant to perform, with a spear 
in his right hand and another in his left. 

I know not how far Jason had travelled, when 
he came to a turbulent river, which rushed right 
across his pathway, with specks of white foam 
among its black eddies, hurrying tumultuously 
onward, and roaring angrily as it went. Though 
not a very broad river in the dry seasons of the 
year, it was now swollen by heavy rains and by 
the melting of the snow on the sides of Mount 
Olympus; and it thundered so loudly, and 
looked so wild and dangerous, that Jason, bold 
as he was, thought it prudent to pause upon 
the brink. The bed of the stream seemed to 
be strewn with sharp and rugged rocks, some 
of which thrust themselves above the water. 
By and by, an uprooted tree, with shattered 
branches, came drifting along the current, and 
got entangled among the rocks. Now and then 
a drowned sheep, and once the carcass of a cow, 
floated past. 

In short, the swollen river had already done 
a great deal of mischief. It was evidently too 
deep for Jason to wade, and too boisterous for 
him to swim; he could see no bridge; and as 

463 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


for a boat, had there been any, the rocks would 
have broken it to pieces in an instant. 

“ See the poor lad,” said a cracked voice close 
to his side. “ He must have had but a poor 
education, since he does not know how to cross 
a little stream like this. Or is he afraid of wet¬ 
ting his fine golden-stringed sandals? It is a 
pity his four-footed schoolmaster is not here to 
carry him safely across on his back ! ” 

Jason looked round greatly surprised, for he 
did not know that anybody was near. But 
beside him stood an old woman, with a ragged 
mantle over her head, leaning on a staff, the top 
of which was carved into the shape of a cuckoo. 
She looked very aged, and wrinkled, and infirm ; 
and yet her eyes, which were as brown as those 
of an ox, were so extremely large and beautiful, 
that, when they were fixed on Jason's eyes, he 
could see nothing else but them. The old wo¬ 
man had a pomegranate in her hand, although 
the fruit was then quite out of season. 

“Whither are you going, Jason?” she now 
asked. 

She seemed to know his name, you will ob¬ 
serve ; and, indeed, those great brown eyes 
looked as if they had a knowledge of every¬ 
thing, whether past or to come. While Jason 
was gazing at her, a peacock strutted forward 
and took his stand at the old woman’s side. 

“ I am going to Iolchos,” answered the young 
464 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


man, “ to bid the wicked King Pelias come down 
from my father’s throne, and let me reign in his 
stead.” 

“ Ah, well, then,” said the old woman, still 
with the same cracked voice, “ if that is all your 
business, you need not be in a very great hurry. 
Just take me on your back, there’s a good 
youth, and carry me across the river. I and my 
peacock have something to do on the other side, 
as well as yourself.” 

“ Good mother,” replied Jason, “your busi¬ 
ness can hardly be so important as the pulling 
down a king from his throne. Besides, as you 
may see for yourself, the river is very boister¬ 
ous ; and if I should chance to stumble, it would 
sweep both of us away more easily than it has 
carried off yonder uprooted tree. I would gladly 
help you if I could ; but I doubt whether I am 
strong enough to carry you across.” 

“ Then,” said she very scornfully, “ neither 
are you strong enough to pull King Pelias off 
his throne. And, Jason, unless you will help 
an old woman at her need, you ought not to be 
a king. What are kings made for, save to suc¬ 
cor the feeble and distressed ? But do as you 
please. Either take me on your back, or with 
my poor old limbs I shall try my best to strug¬ 
gle across the stream.” 

Saying this, the old woman poked with her 
staff in the river, as if to find the safest place in 
465 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


its rocky bed where she might make the first 
step. But Jason, by this time, had grown 
ashamed of his reluctance to help her. He felt 
that he could never forgive himself, if this poor 
feeble creature should come to any harm in 
attempting to wrestle against the headlong cur¬ 
rent. The good Chiron, whether half horse or 
no, had taught him that the noblest use of his 
strength was to assist the weak; and also that 
he must treat every young woman as if she were 
his sister, and every old one like a mother. 
Remembering these maxims, the vigorous and 
beautiful young man knelt down, and requested 
the good dame to mount upon his back. 

“ The passage seems to me not very safe,” 
he remarked. “ But as your business is so 
urgent, I will try to carry you across. If the 
river sweeps you away, it shall take me too.” 

“ That, no doubt, will be a great comfort to 
both of us,” quoth the old woman. “ But never 
fear. We shall get safely across.” 

So she threw her arms around Jason's neck; 
and lifting her from the ground, he stepped 
boldly into the raging and foamy current, and 
began to stagger away from the shore. As for 
the peacock, it alighted on the old dame’s 
shoulder. Jason’s two spears, one in each hand, 
kept him from stumbling, and enabled him to 
feel his way among the hidden rocks ; although, 
every instant, he expected that his companion 
466 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


and himself would go down the stream, together 
with the driftwood of shattered trees, and the 
carcasses of the sheep and cow. Down came 
the cold, snowy torrent from the steep side of 
Olympus, raging and thundering as if it had a 
real spite against Jason, or, at all events, were 
determined to snatch off his living burden from 
his shoulders. When he was halfway across, 
the uprooted tree (which I have already told 
you about) broke loose from among the rocks, 
and bore down upon him, with all its splintered 
branches sticking out like the hundred arms 
of the giant Briareus. It rushed past, however, 
without touching him. But the next moment, 
his foot was caught in a crevice between two 
rocks, and stuck there so fast, that, in the effort 
to get free, he lost one of his golden-stringed 
sandals. 

At this accident Jason could not help uttering 
a cry of vexation. 

“ What is the matter, Jason? ” asked the old 
woman. 

“ Matter enough/' said the young man. “ I 
have lost a sandal here among the rocks. And 
what sort of a figure shall I cut at the court of 
King Pelias, with a golden-stringed sandal on 
one foot, and the other foot bare! ” 

“ Do not take it to heart," answered his com¬ 
panion cheerily. “You never met with better 
fortune than in losing that sandal. It satisfies 
467 


TANGLE WOOD TALES 


me that you are the very person whom the 
Speaking Oak has been talking about.” 

There was no time, just then, to inquire what 
the Speaking Oak had said. But the briskness 
of her tone encouraged the young man; and 
besides, he had never in his life felt so vigorous 
and mighty as since taking this old woman on 
his back. Instead of being exhausted, he gath¬ 
ered strength as he went on; and, struggling 
up against the torrent, he at last gained the 
opposite shore, clambered up the bank, and set 
down the old dame and her peacock safely on 
the grass. As soon as this was done, however, 
he could not help looking rather despondently 
at his bare foot, with only a remnant of the 
golden string of the sandal clinging round his 
ankle. 

“ You will get a handsomer pair of sandals 
by and by,” said the old woman, with a kindly 
look out of her beautiful brown eyes. “Only 
let King Pelias get a glimpse of that bare foot, 
and you shall see him turn as pale as ashes, I 
promise you. There is your path. Go along, 
my good Jason, and my blessing go with you. 
And when you sit on your throne, remember 
the old woman whom you helped over the 
river.” 

With these words, she hobbled away, giving 
him a smile over her shoulder as she departed. 
Whether the light of her beautiful brown eyes 
468 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


threw a glory round about her, or whatever the 
cause might be, Jason fancied that there was 
something very noble and majestic in her figure, 
after all, and that, though her gait seemed to 
be a rheumatic hobble, yet she moved with as 
much grace and dignity as any queen on earth. 
Her peacock, which had now fluttered down 
from her shoulder, strutted behind her in pro¬ 
digious pomp, and spread out its magnificent 
tail on purpose for Jason to admire it. 

When the old dame and her peacock were 
out of sight, Jason set forward on his jour¬ 
ney. After travelling a pretty long distance, he 
came to a town situated at the foot of a moun¬ 
tain, and not a great way from the shore of the 
sea. On the outside of the town there was an 
immense crowd of people, not only men and 
women, but children, too, — all in their best 
clothes, and evidently enjoying a holiday. The 
crowd was thickest towards the seashore ; and in 
that direction, over the people's heads, Jason 
saw a wreath of smoke curling upward to the 
blue sky. He inquired of one of the multitude 
what town it was near by, and why so many 
persons were here assembled together. 

“ This is the kingdom of Iolchos,” answered 
the man, “and we are the subjects of King Pe- 
lias. Our monarch has summoned us together, 
that we may see him sacrifice a black bull to 
Neptune, who, they say, is his Majesty’s father. 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


Yonder is the king, where you see the smoke 
going up from the altar.” 

While the man spoke he eyed Jason with 
great curiosity; for his garb was quite unlike 
that of the Iolchians, and it looked very odd 
to see a youth with a leopard’s skin over his 
shoulders, and each hand grasping a spear. Ja¬ 
son perceived, too, that the man stared particu¬ 
larly at his feet, one of which, you remember, 
was bare, while the other was decorated with his 
father’s golden-stringed sandal. 

“ Look at him ! only look at him ! ” said the 
man to his next neighbor. “ Do you see ? He 
wears but one sandal! ” 

Upon this, first one person, and then another, 
began to stare at Jason, and everybody seemed 
to be greatly struck with something in his as¬ 
pect ; though they turned their eyes much of- 
tener towards his feet than to any other part of 
his figure. Besides, he could hear them whis¬ 
pering to one another. 

<c One sandal! One sandal! ” they kept say¬ 
ing. “ The man with one sandal! Here he is 
at last! Whence has he come ? What does he 
mean to do? What will the king say to the 
one-sandalled man ? ” 

Poor Jason was greatly abashed, and made 
up his mind that the people of Iolchos were 
exceedingly ill bred, to take such public notice 
of an accidental deficiency in his dress. Mean- 
470 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


while, whether it were that they hustled him 
forward, or that Jason, of his own accord, thrust 
a passage through the crowd, it so happened 
that he soon found himself close to the smok¬ 
ing altar, where King Pelias was sacrificing the 
black bull. The murmur and hum of the mul¬ 
titude, in their surprise at the spectacle of Jason 
with his one bare foot, grew so loud that it dis¬ 
turbed the ceremonies; and the king, holding 
the great knife with which he was just going to 
cut the bull’s throat, turned angrily about, and 
fixed his eyes on Jason. The people had now 
withdrawn from around him, so that the youth 
stood in an open space near the smoking altar, 
front to front with the angry King Pelias. 

“ Who are you ? ” cried the king, with a ter¬ 
rible frown. “And how dare you make this 
disturbance, while I am sacrificing a black bull 
to my father Neptune ? ” 

“It is no fault of mine,” answered Jason. 
“Your Majesty must blame the rudeness of 
your subjects, who have raised all this tumult 
because one of my feet happens to be bare.” 

When Jason said this, the king gave a quick, 
startled glance down at his feet. 

“ Ha ! ” muttered he, “ here is the one-san- 
dalled fellow, sure enough ! What can I do 
with him ? ” 

And he clutched more closely the great knife 
in his hand, as if he were half a mind to slay 
47 1 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


Jason instead of the black bull. The people 
round about caught up the king’s words in¬ 
distinctly as they were uttered; and first there 
was a murmur among them, and then a loud 
shout. 

“The one-sandalled man has come! The 
prophecy must be fulfilled ! ” 

For you are to know that, many years be¬ 
fore, King Pelias had been told by the Speak¬ 
ing Oak of Dodona, that a man with one sandal 
should cast him down from his throne. On this 
account, he had given strict orders that nobody 
should ever come into his presence, unless both 
sandals were securely tied upon his feet; and he 
kept an officer in his palace, whose sole busi¬ 
ness it was to examine people’s sandals, and to 
supply them with a new pair, at the expense of 
the royal treasury, as soon as the old ones be¬ 
gan to wear out. In the whole course of the 
king’s reign, he had never been thrown into 
such a fright and agitation as by the spectacle 
of poor Jason’s bare foot. But, as he was nat¬ 
urally a bold and hard-hearted man, he soon 
took courage, and began to consider in what way 
he might rid himself of this terrible one-san¬ 
dalled stranger. 

“ My -good young man,” said King Pelias, 
taking the softest tone imaginable, in order to 
throw Jason off his guard, “ you are excessively 
welcome to my kingdom. Judging by your 
47 2 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


dress, you must have travelled a long distance; 
for it is not the fashion to wear leopard skins 
in this part of the world. Pray what may 1 
call your name ? and where did you receive 
your education ? ” 

“ My name is Jason,” answered the young 
stranger. “ Ever since my infancy I have dwelt 
in the cave of Chiron the Centaur. He was 
my instructor, and taught me music, and horse¬ 
manship, and how to cure wounds, and likewise 
how to inflict wounds with my weapons ! ” 

“ I have heard of Chiron the schoolmaster,” 
replied King Pelias, “ and how that there is an 
immense deal of learning and wisdom in his 
head, although it happens to be set on a horse’s 
body. It gives me great delight to see one 
of his scholars at my court. But, to test how 
much you have profited under so excellent a 
teacher, will you allow me to ask you a single 
question ? ” 

“ I do not pretend to be very wise,” said 
Jason. “ But ask me what you please, and I 
will answer to the best of my ability.” 

Now King Pelias meant cunningly to entrap 
the young man, and to make him say something 
that should be the cause of mischief and de¬ 
struction to himself. So with a crafty and evil 
smile upon his face, he spoke as follows : — 

“ What would you do, brave Jason,” asked 
he, “ if there were a man in the world by whom, 
473 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


as you had reason to believe, you were doomed 
to be ruined and slain, — what would you do, I 
say, if that man stood before you, and in your 
power? ” 

When Jason saw the malice and wickedness 
which King Pelias could not prevent from gleam¬ 
ing out of his eyes, he probably guessed that 
the king had discovered what he came for, and 
that he intended to turn his own words against 
himself Still he scorned to tell a falsehood. 
Like an upright and honorable prince, as he was, 
he determined to speak out the real truth. 
Since the king had chosen to ask him the ques¬ 
tion, and since Jason had promised him an 
answer, there was no right way, save to tell 
him precisely what would be the most prudent 
thing to do, if he had his worst enemy in his 
power. 

Therefore, after a moment’s consideration, he 
spoke up, with a firm and manly voice. 

“ I would send such a man,” said he, “ in 
quest of the Golden Fleece ! ” 

This enterprise, you will understand, was, of 
all others, the most difficult and dangerous in the 
world. In the first place, it would be necessary 
to make a long voyage through unknown seas. 
There was hardly a hope, or a possibility, that 
any young man who should undertake this voy¬ 
age would either succeed in obtaining the Golden 
Fleece, or would survive to return home, and 
474 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


tell of the perils he had run. The eyes of 
King Pelias sparkled with joy, therefore, when 
he heard Jason's reply. 

“ Well said, wise man with the one sandal! ” 
cried he. “ Go, then, and, at the peril of your 
life, bring me back the Golden Fleece." 

“ I go," answered Jason composedly. “ If 
I fail, you need not fear that I will ever come 
back to trouble you again. But if I return to 
Iolchos with the prize, then, King Pelias, you 
must hasten down from your lofty throne, and 
give me your crown and sceptre." 

“ That I will," said the king, with a sneer. 
cc Meantime, I will keep them very safely for 
you." 

The first thing that Jason thought of doing, 
after he left the king’s presence, was to go to 
Dodona, and inquire of the Talking Oak what 
course it was best to pursue. This wonderful 
tree stood in the centre of an ancient wood. Its 
stately trunk rose up a hundred feet into the 
air, and threw a broad and dense shadow over 
more than an acre of ground. Standing beneath 
it, Jason looked up among the knotted branches 
and green leaves, and into the mysterious heart 
of the old tree, and spoke aloud, as if he were 
addressing some person who was hidden in the 
depths of the foliage. 

“ What shall I do," said he, “ in order to win 
the Golden Fleece ? " 


475 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


At first there was a deep silence, not only 
within the shadow of the Talking Oak, but all 
through the solitary wood. In a moment or 
two, however, the leaves of the oak began to stir 
and rustle, as if a gentle breeze were wandering 
amongst them, although the other trees of the 
wood were perfectly still. The sound grew 
louder, and became like the roar of a high wind. 
By and by, Jason imagined that he could dis¬ 
tinguish words, but very confusedly, because 
each separate leaf of the tree seemed to be a 
tongue, and the whole myriad of tongues were 
babbling at once. But the noise waxed broader 
and deeper, until it resembled a tornado sweep¬ 
ing through the oak, and making one great 
utterance out of the thousand and thousand 
of little murmurs which each leafy tongue had 
caused by its rustling. And now, though it still 
had the tone of mighty wind roaring among the 
branches, it was also like a deep bass voice speak¬ 
ing, as distinctly as a tree could be expected to 
speak, the following words : — 

cc Go to Argus, the ship-builder, and bid him 
build a galley with fifty oars.” 

Then the voice melted again into the indis¬ 
tinct murmur of the rustling leaves, and died 
gradually away. When it was quite gone, Jason 
felt inclined to doubt whether he had actually 
heard the words, or whether his fancy had not 
shaped them out of the ordinary sound made 
476 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 

by a breeze, while passing through the thick 
foliage of the tree. 

But on inquiry among the people of Iolchos, 
he found that there was really a man in the city, 
by the name of Argus, who was a very skilful 
builder of vessels. This showed some intel¬ 
ligence in the oak; else how should it have 
known that any such person existed? At Ja¬ 
son’s request, Argus readily consented to build 
him a galley so big that it should require fifty 
strong men to row it; although no vessel of 
such a size and burden had heretofore been seen 
in the world. So the head carpenter, and all 
his journeymen and apprentices, began their 
work ; and for a good while afterwards, there 
they were, busily employed, hewing out the 
timbers, and making a great clatter with their 
hammers; until the new ship, which was called 
the Argo, seemed to be quite ready for sea. 
And, as the Talking Oak had already given him 
such good advice, Jason thought that it would 
not be amiss to ask for a little more. He visited 
it again, therefore, and, standing beside its huge, 
rough trunk, inquired what he should do next. 

This time, there was no such universal quiv¬ 
ering of the leaves, throughout the whole tree, 
as there had been before. But after a while 
Jason observed that the foliage of a great branch 
which stretched above his head had begun to 
rustle, as if the wind were stirring that one 
477 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


bough, while all the other boughs of the oak 
were at rest. 

“ Cut me off! ” said the branch, as soon as 
it could speak distinctly, — “ cut me off! cut 
me off! and carve me into a figure-head for 
your galley.” 

Accordingly, Jason took the branch at its 
word, and lopped it off the tree. A carver in 
the neighborhood engaged to make the figure¬ 
head. He was a tolerably good workman, and 
had already carved several figure-heads, in what 
he intended for feminine shapes, and looking 
pretty much like those which we see nowadays 
stuck up under a vessel’s bowsprit, with great 
staring eyes, that never wink at the dash of the 
spray. But (what was very strange) the carver 
found that his hand was guided by some un¬ 
seen power, and by a skill beyond his own, and 
that his tools shaped out an image which he had 
never dreamed of. When the work was fin¬ 
ished, it turned out to be the figure of a beau¬ 
tiful woman with a helmet on her head, from 
beneath which the long ringlets fell down upon 
her shoulders. On the left arm was a shield, 
and in its centre appeared a lifelike represent¬ 
ation of the head of Medusa with the snaky 
locks. The right arm was extended, as if point¬ 
ing onward. The face of this wonderful statue, 
though not angry or forbidding, was so grave 
and majestic, that perhaps you might call it 
478 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


severe; and as for the mouth, it seemed just 
ready to unclose its lips, and utter words of the 
deepest wisdom. 

Jason was delighted with the oaken image, 
and gave the carver no rest until it was com¬ 
pleted, and set up where a figure-head has 
always stood, from that time to this, in the 
vessel’s prow. 

“ And now,” cried he, as he stood gazing at 
the calm, majestic face of the statue, “ I must 
go to the Talking Oak, and inquire what next 
to do.” 

“ There is no need of that, Jason,” said a 
voice which, though it was far lower, reminded 
him of the mighty tones of the great oak. 
“ When you desire good advice, you can seek 
it of me.” 

Jason had been looking straight into the face 
of the image when these words were spoken. 
But he could hardly believe either his ears or his 
eyes. The truth was, however, that the oaken 
lips had moved, and, to all appearance, the voice 
had proceeded from the statue’s mouth. Re¬ 
covering a little from his surprise, Jason be¬ 
thought himself that the image had been carved 
out of the wood of the Talking Oak, and that, 
therefore, it was really no great wonder, but on 
the contrary, the most natural thing in the 
world, that it should possess the faculty of 
speech. It would have been very odd, indeed, 
479 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


if it had not. But certainly it was a great piece 
of good fortune that he should be able to carry 
so wise a block of wood along with him in his 
perilous voyage. 

“Tell me, wondrous image/’ exclaimed Jason, 

— “ since you inherit the wisdom of the Speak¬ 
ing Oak of Dodona, whose daughter you are, 

— tell me, where shall I find fifty bold youths, 
who will take each of them an oar of my galley ? 
They must have sturdy arms to row, and brave 
hearts to encounter perils, or we shall never win 
the Golden Fleece.” 

“ Go,” replied the oaken image, — 4f go, sum¬ 
mon all the heroes of Greece.” 

And, in fact, considering what a great deed 
was to be done, could any advice be wiser than 
this which Jason received from the figure-head 
of his vessel ? He lost no time in sending mes¬ 
sengers to all the cities, and making known to 
the whole people of Greece, that Prince Jason, 
the son of King iEson, was going in quest of 
the Fleece of Gold, and that he desired the help 
of forty-nine of the bravest and strongest young 
men alive, to row his vessel and share his dan¬ 
gers. And Jason himself would be the fiftieth. 

At this news, the adventurous youths, all 
over the country, began to bestir themselves. 
Some of them had already fought with giants, 
and slain dragons; and the younger ones, who 
had not yet met with such good fortune, thought 
480 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


it a shame to have lived so long without get¬ 
ting astride of a flying serpent, or sticking their 
spears into a Chimaera, or, at least, thrusting 
their right arms down a monstrous lion’s throat. 
There was a fair prospect that they would meet 
with plenty of such adventures before finding 
the Golden Fleece. As soon as they could fur¬ 
bish up their helmets and shields, therefore, and 
gird on their trusty swords, they came throng¬ 
ing to Iolchos, and clambered on board the new 
galley. Shaking hands with Jason, they assured 
him that they did not care a pin for their lives, 
but would help row the vessel to the remotest 
edge of the world, and as much farther as he 
might think it best to go. 

Many of these brave fellows had been edu¬ 
cated by Chiron, the four-footed pedagogue, 
and were therefore old schoolmates of Jason, 
and knew him to be a lad of spirit. The mighty 
Hercules, whose shoulders afterwards held up 
the sky, was one of them. And there were 
Castor and Pollux, the twin brothers, who were 
never accused of being chicken hearted, al¬ 
though they had been hatched out of an egg; 
and Theseus, who was so renowned for killing 
the Minotaur; and Lynceus, with his wonder¬ 
fully sharp eyes, which could see through a 
millstone, or look right down into the depths 
of the earth, and discover the treasures that 
there; and Orpheus, the very best of 
481 


were 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


harpers, who sang and played upon his lyre so 
sweetly, that the brute beasts stood upon their 
hind legs, and capered merrily to the music. 
Yes, and at some of his more moving tunes, the 
rocks bestirred their moss-grown bulk out of the 
ground, and a grove of forest-trees uprooted 
themselves, and, nodding their tops to one an¬ 
other, performed a country dance. 

One of the rowers was a beautiful young 
woman, named Atalanta, who had been nursed 
among the mountains by a bear. So light of 
foot was this fair damsel that she could step 
from one foamy crest of a wave to the foamy 
crest of another, without wetting more than the 
sole of her sandal. She had grown up in a very 
wild way, and talked much about the rights of 
women, and loved hunting and war far better 
than her needle. But, in my opinion, the most 
remarkable of this famous company were two 
sons of the North Wind (airy youngsters, and 
of rather a blustering disposition), who had 
wings on their shoulders, and, in case of a calm, 
could puff out their cheeks, and blow almost as 
fresh a breeze as their father. I ought not to 
forget the prophets and conjurers, of whom 
there were several in the crew, and who could 
foretell what would happen to-morrow, or the 
next day, or a hundred years hence, but were 
generally quite unconscious of what was passing 
at the moment. 


482 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


Jason appointed Tiphys to be helmsman, be¬ 
cause he was a star-gazer, and knew the points 
of the compass. Lynceus, on account of his 
sharp sight, was stationed as a lookout in the 
prow, where he saw a whole day's sail ahead, 
but was rather apt to overlook things that lay 
directly under his nose. If the sea only hap¬ 
pened to be deep enough, however, Lynceus 
could tell you exactly what kind of rocks or 
sands were at the bottom of it; and he often 
cried out to his companions, that they were sail¬ 
ing over heaps of sunken treasure, which yet he 
was none the richer for beholding. To con¬ 
fess the truth, few people believed him when he 
said it. 

Well! But when the Argonauts, as these 
fifty brave adventurers were called, had pre¬ 
pared everything for the voyage, an unforeseen 
difficulty threatened to end it before it was be¬ 
gun. The vessel, you must understand, was 
so long, and broad, and ponderous, that the 
united force of all the fifty was insufficient to 
shove her into the water. Hercules, I suppose, 
had not grown to his full strength, else he might 
have set her afloat as easily as a little boy 
launches his boat upon a puddle. But here 
were these fifty heroes pushing, and straining, 
and growing red in the face, without making 
the Argo start an inch. At last, quite wearied 
out, they sat themselves down on the shore, 

483 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


exceedingly disconsolate, and thinking that the 
vessel must be left to rot and fall in pieces, and 
that they must either swim across the sea or lose 
the Golden Fleece. 

All at once Jason bethought himself of the 
galley’s miraculous figure-head. 

“ O daughter of the Talking Oak,” cried he, 
“ how shall we set to work to get our vessel into 
the water ? ” 

“ Seat yourselves,” answered the image (for 
it had known what ought to be done from the 
very first, and was only waiting for the question 
to be put), — “ seat yourselves, and handle your 
oars, and let Orpheus play upon his harp.” 

Immediately the fifty heroes got on board, 
and, seizing their oars, held them perpendicularly 
in the air, while Orpheus (who liked such a task 
far better than rowing) swept his fingers across 
the harp. At the first ringing note of the mu¬ 
sic, they felt the vessel stir. Orpheus thrummed 
away briskly, and the galley slid at once into 
the sea, dipping her prow so deeply that the 
figure-head drank the wave with its marvellous 
lips, and rose again as buoyant as a swan. The 
rowers plied their fifty oars; the white foam 
boiled up before the prow; the water gurgled 
and bubbled in their wake ; while Orpheus con¬ 
tinued to play so lively a strain of music, that 
the vessel seemed to dance over the billows by 
way of keeping time to it. Thus triumphantly 
484 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


did the Argo sail out of the harbor, amidst the 
huzzas and good wishes of everybody except the 
wicked old Pelias, who stood on a promon¬ 
tory, scowling at her, and wishing that he could 
blow out of his lungs the tempest of wrath that 
was in his heart, and so sink the galley with all 
on board. When they had sailed above fifty 
miles over the sea, Lynceus happened to cast 
his sharp eyes behind, and said that there was 
this bad-hearted king, still perched upon the 
promontory, and scowling so gloomily that it 
looked like a black thunder-cloud in that quarter 
of the horizon. 

In order to make the time pass away more 
pleasantly during the voyage, the heroes talked 
about the Golden Fleece. It originally be¬ 
longed, it appears, to a Boeotian ram, who had 
taken on his back two children, when in danger 
of their lives, and fled with them over land and 
sea, as far as Colchis. One of the children, 
whose name was Helle, fell into the sea and 
was drowned. But the other (a little boy, 
named Phrixus) was brought safe ashore by the 
faithful ram, who, however, was so exhausted 
that he immediately lay down and died. In 
memory of this good deed, and as a token of 
his true heart, the fleece of the poor dead ram 
was miraculously changed to gold, and became 
one of the most beautiful objects ever seen on 
earth. 11 was hung upon a tree in a sacred grove, 
485 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


where it had now been kept I know not how 
many years, and was the envy of mighty kings, 
who had nothing so magnificent in any of their 
palaces. 

If I were to tell you all the adventures of 
the Argonauts, it would take me till nightfall, 
and perhaps a great deal longer. There was no 
lack of wonderful events, as you may judge from 
what you may have already heard. At a certain 
island they were hospitably received by King 
Cyzicus, its sovereign, who made a feast for them, 
and treated them like brothers. But the Ar¬ 
gonauts saw that this good king looked down¬ 
cast and very much troubled, and they there¬ 
fore inquired of him what was the matter. King 
Cyzicus hereupon informed them that he and 
his subjects were greatly abused and incom¬ 
moded by the inhabitants of a neighboring 
mountain, who made war upon them, and killed 
many people, and ravaged the country. And 
while they were talking about it, Cyzicus pointed 
to the mountain, and asked Jason and his com¬ 
panions what they saw there. 

“ I see some very tall objects,” answered Ja¬ 
son ; “ but they are at such a distance that I 
cannot distinctly make out what they are. To 
tell your Majesty the truth, they look so very 
strangely that I am inclined to think them clouds, 
which have chanced to take something like hu¬ 
man shapes.” 


486 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


“ I see them very plainly/’ remarked Lyn- 
ceus, whose eyes, you know, were as far sighted 
as a telescope. “ They are a band of enormous 
giants, all of whom have six arms apiece, and a 
club, a sword, or some other weapon in each of 
their hands.” 

“ You have excellent eyes,” said King Cyzi- 
cus. “ Yes ; they are six-armed giants, as you 
say, and these are the enemies whom I and my 
subjects have to contend with.” 

The next day when the Argonauts were about 
setting sail, down came these terrible giants, 
stepping a hundred yards at a stride, brandish¬ 
ing their six arms apiece, and looking very for¬ 
midable, so far aloft in the air. Each of these 
monsters was able to carry on a whole war by 
himself, for with one of his arms he could fling 
immense stones, and wield a club with another, 
and a sword with a third, while the fourth was 
poking a long spear at the enemy, and the fifth 
and sixth were shooting him with a bow and 
arrow. But, luckily, though the giants were 
so huge, and had so many arms, they had each 
but one heart, and that no bigger nor braver 
than the heart of an ordinary man. Besides, if 
they had been like the hundred-armed Briareus, 
the brave Argonauts would have given them 
their hands full of fight. Jason and his friends 
went boldly to meet them, slew a great many, 
and made the rest take to their heels, so that, if 
487 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


the giants had had six legs apiece instead of six 
arms, it would have served them better to run 
away with. 

Another strange adventure happened when 
the voyagers came to Thrace, where they found 
a poor blind king, named Phineus, deserted by 
his subjects, and living in a very sorrowful way, 
all by himself. On Jason's inquiring whether 
they could do him any service, the king answered 
that he was terribly tormented by three great 
winged creatures, called Harpies, which had the 
faces of women, and the wings, bodies, and claws 
of vultures. These ugly wretches were in the 
habit of snatching away his dinner, and allowed 
him no peace of his life. Upon hearing this, the 
Argonauts spread a plentiful feast on the sea¬ 
shore, well knowing, from what the blind king 
said of their greediness, that the Harpies would 
snuff up the scent of the victuals, and quickly 
come to steal them away. And so it turned out; 
for, hardly was the table set, before the three 
hideous vulture women came flapping their 
wings, seized the food in their talons, and flew off 
as fast as they could. But the two sons of the 
North Wind drew their swords, spread their pin¬ 
ions, and set off through the air in pursuit of 
the thieves, whom they at last overtook among 
some islands, after a chase of hundreds of miles. 
The two winged youths blustered terribly at the 
Harpies (for they had the rough temper of their 
488 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


father), and so frightened them with their drawn 
swords, that they solemnly promised never to 
trouble King Phineus again. 

Then the Argonauts sailed onward, and met 
with many other marvellous incidents any one 
of which would make a story by itself. At one 
time they landed on an island, and were repos¬ 
ing on the grass, when they suddenly found 
themselves assailed by what seemed a shower 
of steel-headed arrows. Some of them stuck 
in the ground, while others hit against their 
shields, and several penetrated their flesh. The 
fifty heroes started up, and looked about them 
for the hidden enemy, but could find none, nor 
see any spot, on the whole island, where even a 
single archer could lie concealed. Still, how¬ 
ever, the steel-headed arrows came whizzing 
among them ; and, at last, happening to look 
upward, they beheld a large flock of birds, hov¬ 
ering and wheeling aloft, and shooting their 
feathers down upon the Argonauts. These 
feathers were the steel-headed arrows that had 
so tormented them. There was no possibility 
of making any resistance; and the fifty heroic 
Argonauts might all have been killed or 
wounded by a flock of troublesome birds, with¬ 
out ever setting eyes on the Golden Fleece, if 
Jason had not thought of asking the advice of 
the oaken image. 


489 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


So he ran to the galley as fast as his legs 
would carry him. 

“ O daughter of the Speaking Oak,” cried 
he, all out of breath, “ we need your wisdom 
more than ever before ! We are in great peril 
from a flock of birds, who are shooting us with 
their steel-pointed feathers. What can we do 
to drive them away ? ” 

“ Make a clatter on your shields,” said the 
image. 

On receiving this excellent counsel, Jason 
hurried back to his companions (who were far 
more dismayed than when they fought with the 
six-armed giants), and bade them strike with 
their swords upon their brazen shields. Forth¬ 
with the fifty heroes set heartily to work, bang¬ 
ing with might and main, and raised such a ter¬ 
rible clatter that the birds made what haste they 
could to get away; and though they had shot 
half the feathers out of their wings, they were 
soon seen skimming among the clouds, a long 
distance off, and looking like a flock of wild 
geese. Orpheus celebrated this victory by play¬ 
ing a triumphant anthem on his harp, and sang 
so melodiously that Jason begged him to desist, 
lest, as the steel-feathered birds had been driven 
away by an ugly sound, they might be enticed 
back again by a sweet one. 

While the Argonauts remained on this island, 
they saw a small vessel approaching the shore, 
490 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 

in which were two young men of princely de¬ 
meanor, and exceedingly handsome, as young 
princes generally were in those days. Now, 
who do you imagine these two voyagers turned 
out to be ? Why, if you will believe me, they 
were the sons of that very Phrixus, who, in his 
childhood, had been carried to Colchis on the 
back of the golden-fleeced ram. Since that time 
Phrixus had married the king’s daughter ; and 
the two young princes had been born and 
brought up at Colchis, and had spent their 
play-days in the outskirts of the grove, in the 
centre of which the Golden Fleece was hanging 
upon a tree. They were now on their way to 
Greece, in hopes of getting back a kingdom that 
had been wrongfully taken from their father. 

When the princes understood whither the 
Argonauts were going, they offered to turn back 
and guide them to Colchis. At the same time, 
however, they spoke as if it were very doubt¬ 
ful whether Jason would succeed in getting the 
Golden Fleece. According to their account, the 
tree on which it hung was guarded by a terri¬ 
ble dragon, who never failed to devour, at one 
mouthful, every person who might venture 
within his reach. 

“ There are other difficulties in the way,” 
continued the young princes. “ But is not this 
enough ? Ah, brave Jason, turn back before it 
is too late. It would grieve us to the heart, if 
491 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


you and your nine and forty brave companions 
should be eaten up, at fifty mouthfuls, by this 
execrable dragon.” 

“ My young friends,” quietly replied Jason, 
“ I do not wonder that you think the dragon 
very terrible. You have grown up from infancy 
in the fear of this monster, and therefore still 
regard him with the awe that children feel for 
the bugbears and hobgoblins which their nurses 
have talked to them about. But, in my view 
of the matter, the dragon is merely a pretty 
large serpent, who is not half so likely to snap 
me up at one mouthful as I am to cut off his 
ugly head, and strip the skin from his body. At 
all events, turn back who may, I will never see 
Greece again unless I carry with me the Golden 
Fleece.” 

cc We will none of us turn back ! ” cried his 
nine and forty brave comrades. c< Let us get 
on board the galley this instant; and if the 
dragon is to make a breakfast of us, much good 
may it do him.” 

And Orpheus (whose custom it was to set 
everything to music) began to harp and sing 
most gloriously, and made every mother’s son 
of them feel as if nothing in this world were so 
delectable as to fight dragons, and nothing so 
truly honorable as to be eaten up at one mouth¬ 
ful, in case of the worst. 

492 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 

After this (being now under the guidance of 
the two princes, who were well acquainted with 
the way), they quickly sailed to Colchis. When 
the king of the country, whose name was Aretes, 
heard of their arrival, he instantly summoned 
Jason to court. The king was a stern and cruel- 
looking potentate; and though he put on as 
polite and hospitable an expression as he could, 
Jason did not like his face a whit better than 
that of the wicked King Pelias, who dethroned 
his father. 

“You are welcome, brave Jason,” said King 
iEetes. “ Pray, are you on a pleasure voyage ? 

— or do you meditate the discovery of un¬ 
known islands ? — or what other cause has pro¬ 
cured me the happiness of seeing you at my 
court ? ” 

“ Great sir,” replied Jason, with an obeisance, 

— for Chiron had taught him how to behave 
with propriety, whether to kings or beggars,— 
“ I have come hither with a purpose which I 
now beg your Majesty's permission to execute. 
King Pelias, who sits on my father’s throne (to 
which he has no more right than to the one on 
which your excellent Majesty is now seated), 
has engaged to come down from it, and to give 
me his crown and sceptre, provided I bring 
him the Golden Fleece. This, as your Majesty 
is aware, is now hanging on a tree here at Col- 

493 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


chis ; and I humbly solicit your gracious leave 
to take it away.” 

In spite of himself, the king’s face twisted it¬ 
self into an angry frown; for, above all things 
else in the world, he prized the Golden Fleece, 
and was even suspected of having done a very 
wicked act, in order to get it into his own pos¬ 
session. It put him into the worst possible 
humor, therefore, to hear that the gallant Prince 
Jason, and forty-nine of the bravest young war¬ 
riors of Greece, had come to Colchis with the 
sole purpose of taking away his chief treasure. 

cc Do you know,” asked King iEetes, eyeing 
Jason very sternly, “ what are the conditions 
which you must fulfil before getting possession 
of the Golden Fleece ? ” 

“ I have heard,” rejoined the youth, cc that a 
dragon lies beneath the tree on which the prize 
hangs, and that whoever approaches him runs 
the risk of being devoured at a mouthful.” 

“ True,” said the king, with a smile that did 
not look particularly good natured. cc Very true, 
young man. But there are other things as hard, 
or perhaps a little harder, to be done, before 
you can even have the privilege of being de¬ 
voured by the dragon. For example, you must 
first tame my two brazen-footed and brazen- 
lunged bulls, which Vulcan, the wonderful black¬ 
smith, made for me. There is a furnace in each 
of their stomachs; and they breathe such hot 
494 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


fire out of their mouths and nostrils, that no¬ 
body has hitherto gone nigh them without be¬ 
ing instantly burned to a small, black cinder. 
What do you think of this, my brave Jason ? ” 

“ I must encounter the peril, ,r answered Ja¬ 
son composedly, “ since it stands in the way of 
my purpose.” 

“ After taming the fiery bulls,” continued 
King iEetes, who was determined to scare Jason 
if possible, <c you must yoke them to a plough, 
and must plough the sacred earth in the grove 
of Mars, and sow some of the same dragon's 
teeth from which Cadmus raised a crop of armed 
men. They are an unruly set of reprobates, 
those sons of the dragon’s teeth; and unless 
you treat them suitably, they will fall upon you 
sword in hand. You and your nine and forty 
Argonauts, my bold Jason, are hardly numer¬ 
ous or strong enough to fight with such a host 
as will spring up.” 

“ My master Chiron,” replied Jason, “ taught 
me, long ago, the story of Cadmus. Perhaps 
I can manage the quarrelsome sons of the drag¬ 
on’s teeth as well as Cadmus did.” 

“ I wish the dragon had him,” muttered King 
iEetes to himself, “ and the four-footed pedant, 
his schoolmaster, into the bargain. Why, what a 
foolhardy, self-conceited coxcomb he is! We ’ll 
see what my fire-breathing bulls will do for him. 
Well, Prince Jason,” he continued aloud, and 
495 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


as complaisantly as he could, “ make yourself 
comfortable for to-day, and to-morrow morning, 
since you insist upon it, you shall try your skill 
at the plough.” 

While the king talked with Jason, a beau¬ 
tiful young woman was standing behind the 
throne. She fixed her eyes earnestly upon the 
youthful stranger, and listened attentively to 
every word that was spoken; and when Jason 
withdrew from the king’s presence, this young 
woman followed him out of the room. 

“ I am the king’s daughter,” she said to him, 
c< and my name is Medea. I know a great deal 
of which other young princesses are ignorant, 
and can do many things which they would be 
afraid so much as to dream of. If you will trust 
to me, I can instruct you how to tame the fiery 
bulls, and sow the dragon’s teeth, and get the 
Golden Fleece.” 

cc Indeed, beautiful princess,” answered Jason, 
cc if you will do me this service, I promise to 
be grateful to you my whole life long.” 

Gazing at Medea, he beheld a wonderful in¬ 
telligence in her face. She was one of those 
persons whose eyes are full of mystery; so that, 
while looking into them, you seem to see a 
very great way, as into a deep well, yet can 
never be certain whether you see into the far¬ 
thest depths, or whether there be not some¬ 
thing else hidden at the bottom. If Jason had 
496 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 

been capable of fearing anything, he would have 
been afraid of making this young princess his 
enemy ; for, beautiful as she now looked, she 
might, the very next instant, become as terrible 
as the dragon that kept watch over the Golden 
Fleece. 

“ Princess,” he exclaimed, <c you seem indeed 
very wise and very powerful. But how can you 
help me to do the things of which you speak ? 
Are you an enchantress ? ” 

<c Yes, Prince Jason,” answered Medea, with 
a smile, “ you have hit upon the truth. I am 
an enchantress. Circe, my father’s sister, taught 
me to be one, and I could tell you, if I pleased, 
who was the old woman with the peacock, the 
pomegranate, and the cuckoo staff, whom you 
carried over the river; and, likewise, who it is 
that speaks through the lips of the oaken image, 
that stands in the prow of your galley. I am 
acquainted with some of your secrets, you per¬ 
ceive. It is well for you that I am favorably 
inclined; for, otherwise, you would hardly es¬ 
cape being snapped up by the dragon.” 

“ I should not so much care for the dragon,” 
replied Jason, cc if I only knew how to manage 
the brazen-footed and fiery-lunged bulls.” 

“If you are as brave as I think you, and as 
you have need to be,” said Medea, “ your own 
bold heart will teach you that there is but one 
way of dealing with a mad bull. What it is I 
497 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


leave you to find out in the moment of peril. 
As for the fiery breath of these animals, I have 
a charmed ointment here, which will prevent 
you from being burned up, and cure you if you 
chance to be a little scorched.” 

So she put a golden box into his hand, and 
directed him how to apply the perfumed unguent 
which it contained, and where to meet her at 
midnight. 

“ Only be brave,” added she, “ and before 
daybreak the brazen bulls shall be tamed.” 

The young man assured her that his heart 
would not fail him. He then rejoined his com¬ 
rades, and told them what had passed between 
the princess and himself, and warned them to 
be in readiness in case there might be need of 
their help. 

At the appointed hour he met the beautiful 
Medea on the marble steps of the king’s palace. 
She gave him a basket, in which were the drag¬ 
on’s teeth, just as they had been pulled out of 
the monster’s jaws by Cadmus, long ago. Me¬ 
dea then led Jason down the palace steps, and 
through the silent streets of the city, and into 
the royal pasture ground, where the two brazen¬ 
footed bulls were kept. It was a starry night, 
with a bright gleam along the eastern edge of 
the sky, where the moon was soon going to 
show herself. After entering the pasture, the 
princess paused and looked around. 

498 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


“ There they are,” said she, “ reposing them¬ 
selves and chewing their fiery cuds in that far¬ 
thest corner of the field. It will be excellent 
sport, I assure you, when they catch a glimpse 
of your figure. My father and all his court de¬ 
light in nothing so much as to see a stranger 
trying to yoke them, in order to come at the 
Golden Fleece. It makes a holiday in Colchis 
whenever such a thing happens. For my part, 
I enjoy it immensely. You cannot imagine in 
what a mere twinkling of an eye their hot breath 
shrivels a young man into a black cinder.” 

“ Are you sure, beautiful Medea,” asked Ja¬ 
son, cs quite sure, that the unguent in the gold 
box will prove a remedy against those terrible 
burns ?” 

“ If you doubt, if you are in the least afraid,” 
said the princess, looking him in the face by the 
dim starlight, “ you had better never have been 
born than go a step nigher to the bulls.” 

But Jason had set his heart steadfastly on 
getting the Golden Fleece; and I positively 
doubt whether he would have gone back with¬ 
out it, even had he been certain of finding him¬ 
self turned into a red-hot cinder, or a handful 
of white ashes, the instant he made a step far¬ 
ther. He therefore let go Medea’s hand, and 
walked boldly forward in the direction whither 
she had pointed. At some distance before him 
he perceived four streams of fiery vapor, regu- 
499 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


larly appearing, and again vanishing, after dimly 
lighting up the surrounding obscurity. These, 
you will understand, were caused by the breath 
of the brazen bulls, which was quietly stealing 
out of their four nostrils, as they lay chewing 
their cuds. 

At the first two or three steps which Jason 
made, the four fiery streams appeared to gush 
out somewhat more plentifully; for the two bra¬ 
zen bulls had heard his foot-tramp, and were 
lifting up their hot noses to snuff the air. He 
went a little farther, and by the way in which 
the red vapor now spouted forth, he judged that 
the creatures had got upon their feet. Now he 
could see glowing sparks, and vivid jets of 
flame. At the next step, each of the bulls made 
the pasture echo with a terrible roar, while the 
burning breath, which they thus belched forth, 
lit up the whole field with a momentary flash. 
One other stride did bold Jason make ; and, 
suddenly, as a streak of lightning, on came these 
fiery animals, roaring like thunder, and sending 
out sheets of white flame, which so kindled up 
the scene that the young man could discern 
every object more distinctly than by daylight. 
Most distinctly of all he saw the two horrible 
creatures galloping right down upon him, their 
brazen hoofs rattling and ringing over the 
ground, and their tails sticking up stiffly into 
the air, as has always been the fashion with an- 
500 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 

gry bulls. Their breath scorched the herbage 
before them. So intensely hot it was, indeed, 
that it caught a dry tree, under which Jason 
was now standing, and set it all in a light blaze. 
But as for Jason himself (thanks to Medea’s 
enchanted ointment), the white flame curled 
around his body, without injuring him a jot 
more than if he had been made of asbestos. 

Greatly encouraged at finding himself not yet 
turned into a cinder, the young man awaited the 
attack of the bulls. Just as the brazen brutes 
fancied themselves sure of tossing him into the 
air, he caught one of them by the horn, and the 
other by his screwed-up tail, and held them in 
a gripe like that of an iron vice, one with his 
right hand, the other with his left. Well, he 
must have been wonderfully strong in his arms, 
to be sure. But the secret of the matter was, 
that the brazen bulls were enchanted creatures, 
and that Jason had broken the spell of their 
fiery fierceness by his bold way of handling them. 
And, ever since that time, it has been the favor¬ 
ite method of brave men, when danger assails 
them, to do what they call “ taking the bull by 
the horns ; ” and to gripe him by the tail is 
pretty much the same thing, — that is, to throw 
aside fear, and overcome the peril by despising it. 

It was now easy to yoke the bulls, and to 
harness them to the plough, which had lain rust¬ 
ing on the ground for a great many years gone 
501 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


by; so long was it before anybody could be 
found capable of ploughing that piece of land. 
Jason, I suppose, had been taught how to draw 
a furrow by the good old Chiron, who, perhaps, 
used to allow himself to be harnessed to the 
plough. At any rate, our hero succeeded per¬ 
fectly well in breaking up the greensward ; and, 
by the time that the moon was a quarter of her 
journey up the sky, the ploughed field lay be¬ 
fore him, a large tract of black earth, ready to 
be sown with the dragon's teeth. So Jason scat¬ 
tered them broadcast, and harrowed them into 
the soil with a brush-harrow, and took his stand 
on the edge of the field, anxious to see what 
would happen next. 

fC Must we wait long for harvest-time ? " he 
inquired of Medea, who was now standing by 
his side. 

Cf Whether sooner or later, it will be sure to 
come," answered the princess. “ A crop of 
armed men never fails to spring up, when the 
dragon's teeth have been sown." 

The moon was now high aloft in the heavens, 
and threw its bright beams over the ploughed 
field, where as yet there was nothing to be seen. 
Any farmer, on viewing it, would have said that 
Jason must wait weeks before the green blades 
would peep from among the clods, and whole 
months before the yellow grain would be ripened 
for the sickle. But by and by, all over the field, 
502 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 

there was something that glistened in the moon¬ 
beams, like sparkling drops of dew. These 
bright objects sprouted higher, and proved to 
be the steel heads of spears. Then there was a 
dazzling gleam from a vast number of polished 
brass helmets, beneath which, as they grew far¬ 
ther out of the soil, appeared the dark and 
bearded visages of warriors, struggling to free 
themselves from the imprisoning earth. The 
first look that they gave at the upper world was 
a glare of wrath and defiance. Next were seen 
their bright breastplates ; in every right hand 
there was a sword or a spear, and on each left 
arm a shield; and when this strange crop of 
warriors had but half grown out of the earth, 
they struggled, — such was their impatience of 
restraint, — and, as it were, tore themselves up 
by the roots. Wherever a dragon’s tooth had 
fallen, there stood a man armed for battle. They 
made a clangor with their swords against their 
shields, and eyed one another fiercely; for they 
had come into this beautiful world, and into 
the peaceful moonlight, full of rage and stormy 
passions, and ready to take the life of every 
human brother, in recompense of the boon of 
their own existence. 

There have been many other armies in the 
world that seemed to possess the same fierce 
nature with the one which had now sprouted 
from the dragon’s teeth; but these, in the moon- 
503 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


lit field, were the more excusable, because they 
never had women for their mothers. And how 
it would have rejoiced any great captain, who 
was bent on conquering the world, like Alex¬ 
ander or Napoleon, to raise a crop of armed 
soldiers as easily as Jason did ! 

For a while the warriors stood flourishing 
their weapons, clashing their swords against their 
shields, and boiling over with the red-hot thirst 
for battle. Then they began to shout, “ Show 
us the enemy ! Lead us to the charge ! Death 
or victory ! Come on, brave comrades ! Con¬ 
quer or die ! ” and a hundred other outcries, 
such as men always bellow forth on a battlefield, 
and which these dragon people seemed to have 
at their tongues' ends. At last, the front rank 
caught sight of Jason, who, beholding the flash 
of so many weapons in the moonlight, had 
thought it best to draw his sword. In a mo¬ 
ment all the sons of the dragon’s teeth appeared 
to take Jason for an enemy; and crying with 
one voice, “ Guard the Golden Fleece ! ” they 
ran at him with uplifted swords and protruded 
spears. Jason knew that it would be impossible 
to withstand this bloodthirsty battalion with his 
single arm, but determined, since there was no¬ 
thing better to be done, to die as valiantly as if 
he himself had sprung from a dragon’s tooth. 

Medea, however, bade him snatch up a stone 
from the ground. 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


“Throw it among them quickly ! ” cried she. 
cc It is the only way to save yourself.” 

The armed men were now so nigh that Jason 
could discern the fire flashing out of their en¬ 
raged eyes, when he let fly the stone, and saw 
it strike the helmet of a tall warrior, who was 
rushing upon him with his blade aloft. The 
stone glanced from this man’s helmet to the 
shield of his nearest comrade, and thence flew 
right into the angry face of another, hitting him 
smartly between the eyes. Each of the three 
who had been struck by the stone took it for 
granted that his next neighbor had given him 
a blow ; and instead of running any farther to¬ 
wards Jason, they began a fight among them¬ 
selves. The confusion spread through the host, 
so that it seemed scarcely a moment before they 
were all hacking, hewing, and stabbing at one 
another, lopping off arms, heads, and legs, and 
doing such memorable deeds that Jason was 
filled with immense admiration ; although, at 
the same time, he could not help laughing to 
behold these mighty men punishing each other 
for an offence which he himself had committed. 
In an incredibly short space of time (almost as 
short, indeed, as it had taken them to grow up), 
all but one of the heroes of the dragon’s teeth 
were stretched lifeless on the field. The last 
survivor, the bravest and strongest of the whole, 
had just force enough to wave his crimson sword 
505 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


over his head, and give a shout of exultation, 
crying, “ Victory ! Victory ! Immortal fame ! ” 
when he himself fell down, and lay quietly 
among his slain brethren. 

And there was the end of the army that had 
sprouted from the dragon’s teeth. That fierce 
and feverish fight was the only enjoyment which 
they had tasted on this beautiful earth. 

“ Let them sleep in the bed of honor,” said 
the Princess Medea, with a sly smile at Jason. 
“ The world will always have simpletons enough, 
just like them, fighting and dying for they 
know not what, and fancying that posterity will 
take the trouble to put laurel wreaths on their 
rusty and battered helmets. Could you help 
smiling, Prince Jason, to see the self-conceit of 
that last fellow, just as he tumbled down ? ” 

“ It made me very sad,” answered Jason 
gravely. “ And, to tell you the truth, princess, 
the Golden Fleece does not appear so well 
worth the winning, after what I have here be¬ 
held.” 

“ You will think differently in the morning,” 
said Medea. <c True, the Golden Fleece may 
not be so valuable as you have thought it; but 
then there is nothing better in the world; and 
one must needs have an object, you know. 
Come ! Your night’s work has been well per¬ 
formed ; and to-morrow you can inform King 
506 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 

iEetes that the first part of your allotted task is 
fulfilled.” 

Agreeably to Medea’s advice, Jason went be¬ 
times in the morning to the palace of King iEetes. 
Entering the presence chamber, he stood at the 
foot of the throne, and made a low obeisance. 

“Your eyes look heavy, Prince Jason,” ob¬ 
served the king ; “ you appear to have spent a 
sleepless night. I hope you have been consid¬ 
ering the matter a little more wisely, and have 
concluded not to get yourself scorched to a 
cinder, in attempting to tame my brazen-lunged 
bulls.” 

“ That is already accomplished, may it please 
your Majesty,” replied Jason. “ The bulls 
have been tamed and yoked ; the field has been 
ploughed ; the dragon’s teeth have been sown 
broadcast, and harrowed into the soil; the crop 
of armed warriors has sprung up, and they have 
slain one another, to the last man. And now 
I solicit your Majesty’s permission to encounter 
the dragon, that I may take down the Golden 
Fleece from the tree, and depart, with my nine 
and forty comrades.” 

King iEetes scowled, and looked very angry 
and excessively disturbed; for he knew that, in 
accordance with his kingly promise, he ought 
now to permit Jason to win the fleece, if his 
courage and skill should enable him to do so. 

507 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


But, since the young man had met with such 
good luck in the matter of the brazen bulls 
and the dragon’s teeth, the king feared that 
he would be equally successful in slaying the 
dragon. And therefore, though he would gladly 
have seen Jason snapped up at a mouthful, he 
was resolved (and it was a very wrong thing of 
this wicked potentate) not to run any further 
risk of losing his beloved fleece. 

“ You never would have succeeded in this 
business, young man,” said he, c< if my undutiful 
daughter Medea had not helped you with her 
enchantments. Had you acted fairly, you would 
have been, at this instant, a black cinder, or a 
handful of white ashes. I forbid you, on pain 
of death, to make any more attempts to get the 
Golden Fleece. To speak my mind plainly, 
you shall never set eyes on so much as one of 
its glistening locks.” 

Jason left the king’s presence in great sorrow 
and anger. He could think of nothing better 
to be done than to summon together his forty- 
nine brave Argonauts, march at once to the 
grove of Mars, slay the dragon, take possession 
of the Golden Fleece, get on board the Argo, 
and spread all sail for Iolchos. The success of 
the scheme depended, it is true, on the doubt¬ 
ful point whether all the fifty heroes might not 
be snapped up, at so many mouthfuls, by the 
dragon. But, as Jason was hastening down the 
508 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


palace steps, the Princess Medea called after 
him, and beckoned him to return. Her black 
eyes shone upon him with such a keen intelli¬ 
gence, that he felt as if there were a serpent 
peeping out of them; and although she had 
done him so much service only the night be¬ 
fore, he was by no means very certain that she 
would not do him an equally great mischief be¬ 
fore sunset. These enchantresses, you must 
know, are never to be depended upon. 

<c What says King Aietes, my royal and up¬ 
right father? " inquired Medea, slightly smiling. 
“ Will he give you the Golden Fleece, without 
any further risk or trouble? " 

“ On the contrary/' answered Jason, “ he is 
very angry with me for taming the brazen bulls 
and sowing the dragon's teeth. And he for¬ 
bids me to make any more attempts, and posi¬ 
tively refuses to give up the Golden Fleece, 
whether I slay the dragon or no." 

“Yes, Jason," said the princess, “and I can 
tell you more. Unless you set sail from Col¬ 
chis before to-morrow’s sunrise, the king means 
to burn your fifty-oared galley, and put your¬ 
self and your forty-nine brave comrades to the 
sword. But be of good courage. The Golden 
Fleece you shall have, if it lies within the 
power of my enchantments to get it for you. 
Wait for me here an hour before midnight." 
At the appointed hour, you might again have 
509 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 

seen Prince Jason and the Princess Medea, side 
by side, stealing through the streets of Colchis, 
on their way to the sacred grove, in the centre 
of which the Golden Fleece was suspended to 
a tree. While they were crossing the pasture 
ground, the brazen bulls came towards Jason, 
lowing, nodding their heads, and thrusting forth 
their snouts, which, as other cattle do, they loved 
to have rubbed and caressed by a friendly hand. 
Their fierce nature was thoroughly tamed; and, 
with their fierceness, the two furnaces in their 
stomachs had likewise been extinguished, in¬ 
somuch that they probably enjoyed far more 
comfort in grazing and chewing their cuds than 
ever before. Indeed, it had heretofore been a 
great inconvenience to these poor animals, that, 
whenever they wished to eat a mouthful of grass, 
the fire out of their nostrils had shrivelled it up, 
before they could manage to crop it. How they 
contrived to keep themselves alive is more than 
I can imagine. But now, instead of emitting 
jets of flame and streams of sulphurous vapor, 
they breathed the very sweetest of cow breath. 

After kindly patting the bulls, Jason fol¬ 
lowed Medea’s guidance into the grove of 
Mars, where the great oak-trees, that had been 
growing for centuries, threw so thick a shade 
that the moonbeams struggled vainly to find 
their way through it. Only here and there a 
glimmer fell upon the leaf-strewn earth, or now 
510 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


and then a breeze stirred the boughs aside, and 
gave Jason a glimpse of the sky, lest, in that 
deep obscurity, he might forget that there was 
one, overhead. At length, when they had gone 
farther and farther into the heart of the duski¬ 
ness, Medea squeezed Jason’s hand. 

“ Look yonder,” she whispered. “ Do you 
see it ? ” 

Gleaming among the venerable oaks, there 
was a radiance, not like the moonbeams, but 
rather resembling the golden glory of the set¬ 
ting sun. It proceeded from an object, which 
appeared to be suspended at about a man’s 
height from the ground, a little farther within 
the wood. 

“What is it? ” asked Jason. 

“ Have you come so far to seek it,” ex¬ 
claimed Medea, “ and do you not recognize 
the meed of all your toils and perils, when it 
glitters before your eyes? It is the Golden 
Fleece.” 

Jason went onward a few steps farther, and 
then stopped to gaze. O, how beautiful it 
looked, shining with a marvellous light of its 
own, that inestimable prize, which so many 
heroes had longed to behold, but had perished 
in the quest of it, either by the perils of their 
voyage, or by the fiery breath of the brazen- 
lunged bulls. 

“ How gloriously it shines ! ” cried Jason, in 

5 11 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


a rapture. “ It has surely been dipped in the 
richest gold of sunset. Let me hasten onward, 
and take it to my bosom.” 

“ Stay,” said Medea, holding him back. 
“ Have you forgotten what guards it ? ” 

To say the truth, in the joy of beholding 
the object of his desires, the terrible dragon had 
quite slipped out of Jason's memory. Soon, 
however, something came to pass that reminded 
him what perils were still to be encountered. 
An antelope, that probably mistook the yel¬ 
low radiance for sunrise, came bounding fleetly 
through the grove. He was rushing straight 
towards the Golden Fleece, when suddenly 
there was a frightful hiss, and the immense 
head and half the scaly body of the dragon 
was thrust forth (for he was twisted round the 
trunk of the tree on which the fleece hung), 
and seizing the poor antelope, swallowed him 
with one snap of his jaws. 

After this feat, the dragon seemed sensible 
that some other living creature was within reach 
on which he felt inclined to finish his meal. 
In various directions he kept poking his ugly 
snout among the trees, stretching out his neck 
a terrible long way, now here, now there, and 
now close to the spot where Jason and the 
princess were hiding behind an oak. Upon my 
word, as the head came waving and undulating 
through the air, and reaching almost within 
512 


Let me hasten onward ” 





































































































































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THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


arm’s length of Prince Jason, it was a very 
hideous and uncomfortable sight. The gape 
of his enormous jaws was nearly as wide as the 
gateway of the king’s palace. 

“Well, Jason,” whispered Medea (for she 
was ill natured, as all enchantresses are, and 
wanted to make the bold youth tremble), 
cc what do you think now of your prospect of 
winning the Golden Fleece ? ” 

Jason answered only by drawing his sword 
and making a step forward. 

“ Stay, foolish youth,” said Medea, grasping 
his arm. “ Do not you see you are lost, with¬ 
out me as your good angel ? In this gold box 
I have a magic potion, which will do the drag¬ 
on’s business far more effectually than your 
sword.” 

The dragon had probably heard the voices; 
for, swift as lightning, his black head and 
forked tongue came hissing among the trees 
again, darting full forty feet at a stretch. As 
it approached, Medea tossed the contents of 
the gold box right down the monster’s wide 
open throat. Immediately, with an outrageous 
hiss and a tremendous wriggle, — flinging his 
tail up to the tiptop of the tallest tree, and 
shattering all its branches as it crashed heavily 
down again, — the dragon fell at full length 
upon the ground, and lay quite motionless. 

“ It is only a sleeping potion,” said the 
5i3 


TANGLEWOOD TALES 


enchantress to Prince Jason. “ One always 
finds a use for these mischievous creatures, 
sooner or later; so I did not wish to kill him 
outright. Quick! Snatch the prize, and let us 
begone. You have won the Golden Fleece.” 

Jason caught the fleece from the tree, and 
hurried through the grove, the deep shadows 
of which were illuminated as he passed by the 
golden glory of the precious object that he 
bore along. A little way before him, he beheld 
the old woman whom he had helped over the 
stream, with her peacock beside her. She 
clapped her hands for joy, and, beckoning him 
to make haste, disappeared among the duski¬ 
ness of the trees. Espying the two winged 
sons of the North Wind (who were disporting 
themselves in the moonlight, a few hundred 
feet aloft), Jason bade them tell the rest of the 
Argonauts to embark as speedily as possible. 
But Lynceus, with his sharp eyes, had already 
caught a glimpse of him, bringing the Golden 
Fleece, although several stone walls, a hill, and 
the black shadows of the grove of Mars inter¬ 
vened between. By his advice, the heroes had 
seated themselves on the benches of the galley, 
with their oars held perpendicularly, ready to 
let fall into the water. 

As Jason drew near, he heard the Talking 
Image calling to him with more than ordinary 
eagerness, in its grave, sweet voice : — 

5 I 4 


THE GOLDEN FLEECE 


“ Make haste. Prince Jason ! For your life, 
make haste! ” 

With one bound he leaped aboard. At sight 
of the glorious radiance of the Golden Fleece, 
the nine and forty heroes gave a mighty shout, 
and Orpheus, striking his harp, sang a song 
of triumph, to the cadence of which the galley 
flew over the water, homeward bound, as if 
careering along with wings ! 

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